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IRISH 

PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

ETC., ETC. 
BY R(b1 B. 'DUBLIN. 

ALSO, AN ADDRESS ON 

Ireland % Arable of tfrarptro Iticntua 

' EY REV. J. B. ELNLAY, Ph. D. LL. D. 

TO WHICH IS ADDED A CHOICE COLLECTION OF 

ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 




NEW YORK: 
DE WITT & DAVENPORT, PUBLISHERS, 

160 NASSAU STREET. 
MDCCCLV. 












Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by 

ROBERT REDMAN BELSHAW, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court, for the Southern District of New York. 



stereotyped by w. e. blakeney, 

Peter Duncan, Printer, 

22 Spruce Street. 8 Spruce Street. 



TO 

XHE PATRIOTIC SONS OF THE ILLUSTRIOUS AND DISTINGUISHED 
FOREIGN PROTESTANTS, WHO MAINTAINED THE DECLARA- 
TION OF INDEPENDENCE, AND FOUGHT FOR FREE- 
DOM AND THE RIGHTS OF MAN ON THE 
BATTLE FIELDS OF THE REVOLUTION, 
WHERE THEY SUPPORTED IN- 
VIOLATE, THE CAUSE OF 
AMERICAN MSSEIO.TYs 

AND ALSO TO 

ALL PROTESTANT IRISHMEN 

NOW RESIDING IN AMERICA, 
THIS VOLUME IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



In presenting to a generous Public, the following letters, &c. 
the author is not induced to do so from any claim to merit or su- 
periority. His chief desire is to set before the enlightened citizen? 
of America, the true character of Protestant foreigners in gener- 
al, and of Irish Protestants in particular. If Ireland occupies the 
attention of the writer to a great extent, it should not create any 
surprise, inasmuch as his youngest years were spent in that coun- 
try, and its history has long been his favorite study. 

The statements embodied in these pages have been drawn from 
the most .reliable sources. Though they may not be favorably re- 
ceived by all their readers, they are nevertheless stubborn facts. 
Actuated by a true love for his native land, he has introduced a 
few of the illustrious names that have adorned his country — men 
whose brilliant deeds in America have raised a monument of glo- 
ry to which posterity -will exultingly point as they exclaim, "Be- 
hold the deeds of our fathers in other times !" Honor to their 
memories ! Though some may endeavor to deny the truthful- 
ness of his conclusions, he is, however, well aware, that in the lan- 
of Washington Irving: "There is a certain meddlesome 
which in the garb of learned research, goes prying about 
the traces of history, casting clown its fairest trophies. 
should be taken to vindicate great names from such pernicious 
Ion." 
The author is conscious of many d this work. Typo- 

,1 errors, over which he had no control, have unav 
crept into it while passing through the press, and ha/c ren 
it not so perfect as it otherwise should have been. As it now 
stands he only asks for it a careful examination; not from the 
eyes of professional critics, but from those of an inquiring ; 
He is not an author by profession, but merely a tyro in the halls 
of literature. He knows, as Byron has thus expressed : — 

" A niaa must serve bis time to every trade 
Save censure ; critics till are ready made. 



Yj PRE PACE. 

A modern critic is a thing who runs 

All ways, all risks to evitate his duns ; 

Let but au author ask hirn home to dine, 

And lend him money while he gave him wine ; 

However dull the trash tho man might write, 

His praise the grateful guest would still indite." 

Before one can praise or blame the Protestants of Ireland, it U 
iry that he become acquainted with the history of their 
country. For Ireland has a noble history. 

Nearly 1000 years before the Christian era, Ireland had a liter- 
aracter. Her Celtic code of laws has since laid the foun- 
dation of English and American law. The Christian religion was 
introduced there about the end of the first century. In the year 
432, Succathus Magonius, named "St. Patrick/' arrived : church- 
; seminaries increased throughout the island until the 
tenth century. Then came the Danes who plundered the 

ed the public buildings, and took possession of Dublin and 
Waterford. In the year 1155,. Pope Adrian made a grant of that 
::.ig Henry II, that Popery might be introduced into it 
r. In the year 1172 the English monarch took 
ion oi ' that period Popery was unknown 

in Ireland. Prom the year 1172, until the reign of Henry VIII, 
fced there— the Ancient Irish Church and the Po- 
pish Irish Church : the one independent of, and the other in sub- 
■ ' :i to, the Roman Pontiff. When the Reformation began in 
I, the ancient Irish Culdees united with the Rei 
Church. This caused th 

came a Bull from Pope Gregory XIII, in 1580, to incite rel 
ion in the country. Then came .another Bull, in 
which ri\u-Qn the Irish Protestam Then ime the 

-nation of the Pr atry, in 16S8-; and 

with it came the famous Siege of 1 > 

t h e B« Protestants heroically fought for, and gloriously 

won, the liberties of their country. Then cam 
1793 when Popery appeared once more in its real colors at V. ex 
ford Bridge, and Seullabogue Barn. 

Such is a brief outline of Irish history, which will be found elu- 
cidated in tl 

to point out the machinations 

of Popery on the Institutions of America; an how the 

relation of 

come to this country that they may avail th ' the in- 



PEEPA CE, 



creased facilities for commercial intercourse, and not to interfere 
with politics or political aggrandizement, they believe that Amer- 
icans should rule America. 

The greater portion of this work appeared during the pasc year 
in the columns of the N. Y. True American ; from thence it 
was copied into a large number of papers on both sides of the 
Atlantic; amongst which may be mentioned the Sentinel of 
London, the organ of the Protestant Association of Great Brit- 
ain and Ireland, edited by the Rev. Dr. Gregg. In compliance 
with numerous requests to have them republished in a more per- 
manent form, they have now been collected for that purpose, and 
are here presented to the public with some additional matter. 

The article on " Ireland the Cradle of European Literature? 
is from the pen of Rev. Dr. Finlay of Brooklyn, who is widely 
known for his literary attainments as an author. It will repay 
the perusal of every student of history. 

The poetry has been carefully selected. Some of it has never 
been published before. " The Lays of the Ulster Minstrelsy " 
will afford much gratification to all admirers of patriotic song ; 
they are especially directed to the attention of Irish Protestants ; 
for in the language of Ossian :— " Pleasant are the words of the 
song ! Lovely the tales of other times, when the joy of youth re- 
turns." 

R. R. B., Dublin. 



Page 
3 



CONTENTS. 

Address to the Irish Protestants in the United States. 

Letter I. l6 

John Mitchel and True Irishmen 

Letter II. 

Mftchel.-The New York « Irish Universal, Civil and Military Repubhcan 
Union," under President O'Malley, . • 

Letter III. 

Influence of Jesuitism on American Politics.-Politieal foreigners and their 
antecedents.-The Naturalization Laws and their great convenience for the 
naturalization of Popery in tho United States 

Letter IV. 

The American movement and its enemies.-The principle of the American Rev- 
oliUion and its future prospects. -The danger of Popery as seen in its pros- ^ 
ent appearance and past history. 

Letter V. 

Patriotism of Protestant Foreigner-Sketches of Presbyterian and Episcopa- ^ 
palian reminiscences • 

Letter VI. 

The Protestants of Ireland and their position in 184S.-Rcminiscenoes of the 
Irish Orangemen, with observations on the same 

Letter VII. 

Thn Irish Massacre of 1641, with a few details of the same, from the affadavits 
thS have been preserved in the Library of Trinity College, Dublin.-Tho 
S.leof the e Bo P yne, 1690,-IIistorical illustrations of the pract cal opera- ^ 
tions of Popery 

Letter VIII, 

The Irish Rebellions and Confiscations of Desmond in 1530, and Tyrone in 1641 
with some notices of the '< Patriots " concerned therein, and the motives b , ^ 
■which they wero actuated 

Letter IX. 

The American Revolution, and the assistance rendered to it by the Irish ^orth- ^ 
men or Protestant-Irish 

Letter X. 

The Apostolic character of the Ancient Irish and British .Churches with some 

at of the introduction ? into the British ^"^ -Ireland 

and Learning before tho introduction of Popery by the 

A^glo* Stare prospers through tho restoration of her ancient 

... 

Letter XI. 

Irish degeneration in modern time., the natural result of Popery.-Mish re- 
generation within the last three hundred years, the natural result of Protes- ^ 
tantism. 

Letter XII. 

Address to the educated Roman Catholics.— Romanism as seen in those coun- 
tries where it wields exclusive and unbounded influence 

Ireland the Cradle of European Literature 

Reminiscences of Dublin— Historical and Descriptive. • j 

LlSULilN, AND ITS SURROUNDING SCENERY 



CONTENTS. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 



The British Isles. 

nd in which my Fathers lived. 
The Wbite Mountain. 

m " A Presbyterian." 
on " The Solemn League and Covenant. 

an old Irish air. 

The Exile. 

The Irishman. . . . 

! i in Portugal. 
The Huguenot Battle Hymn. 
The Deep. 

The Brave Old World . 
Napoleon's Epitaph. 
War Song of the Greeks, 
•r's Funeral. . 
The Lady of Provence. . 
of Night. 
f the Dead. . , 

The Picture of the Dead. 
. 
The Spanish Conquests in America. 
n the Rhine. 
for him that dieth. 
The Stranger's Heart. . 
The Me -sage to the Dead. 
The Young Pastor. 

-nation. 
The Three Prophets, 
Erin, Mavourneen. 
The Nurse's Song. 
The Music of St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin 

tie on a young lady. 
Elegy on the death of James Freeman, Esq. 

I he death of the late Richard Belshaw, Esq. 
ling of the Covenant in the Greyfriars' Churchyard, E 
the grave of C 
ath of a young lady. . 
i mts. — Friendship — The Moss Rose— Liberty 
The Songs of our Fathers. 



9P 
9f 

IOC 
10] 
10] 
10? 
10? 
104 
106 
107 
107 
109 
109 
111 
113 
114 
115 
117 
118 
119 
120 
122 
122 
123 
124 
125 
126 
128 
12S 
129 
130 
130 
131 
132 
134 
135 
137 
138 
139 
140 



THE LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 



The Shutting of the gates of Derry. ...... 142 

The lleli f of Derry. ........ 144 

i len City 144 

tie of the Boyne. ....... 145 

:g. ....... 143 

>fofLeyden. ........ 149 

aada. ....... 150 

rvey. . . . • . . . .151 

The Gathering of the North. ........ 152 

1 ' ir Yeomen's Remonstrance. ...... 154 

Advice. ........ 155 

cue. ........ 157 

; of the Watson Orange Lodge, No. 356. . . .153 

re. . . . . . . . .159 

, John Jefferson, Sen., Esq. ...... 160 

f the French Protestants in Lisburn Churchyard. . . 161 

ngemen of the North, ...... 163 

Orangemen, come on! .....••• 164 

No Surrender. .......•• 165 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



Address to the Irish Protestants in the 
United States. 



Br R. R. B. DUBLIN. 

Protestant Fellow Codntrymen : — In addressing you on 
the present occasion it is my intention to bring forward some well 
known facts, to bear on the calumnious assertions so frequently 
made against our country and people. It has long been the cus- 
tom with many to denounce everything Irish as being decidedly 
inferior. I refer especially to those who make no distinction be- 
tween us and the ancient enemies of our faith. Some indeed, 
have rendered us tardy justice under the generic title of Ameri- 
cans, but not as Irishmen. Our country has long enough been 
disgraced by a Popish misrepresentation in this great Republic. 
As Irishmen, we are now bound to stand forth before the pub- 
lic, and give a practical refutation to that erroneous impression 
so prevalent with many who speak as if " Irish" and " Popish'' 
were synonymous terms. 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



Irishmen : It is no disgrace to be an Irishrn-,* /-jU' is ts a 
disgrace to be ashamed of being an Irishman ; or to be forgetful 
of that ancient classic and historic land of ours, adorned with 
heathy mountain and swelling woodland — whose every hill, 
valley, lake and river tells in silence its tale of other years, being 
associated withsome venerable name or glorious deed of the past 
Ireland abounds in relics of departed glory. Her ivy-clad ruins 
are to be seen in all directions, inviting the traveller and the anti- 
quarian to investigate her history and espouse her cause. And 
•while he listens to her plaintive bards or hears the wild music 
of her native harp, he is in danger of being carried away by that 
enthusiasm, which in cooler moments he might deprecate as ini- 
mical to truthful investigation or philosophical deduction. There 
is such a thing to the contemplative mind as the influence of lo- 
cality ; and there are in Ireland spots of peculiar attraction and 
thrilling interest, which derive their power from the beautiful of 
seenery, the splendor of achievement, the sublime of genius or the 
amiable of piety. "Who has not loved to gaze and linger there ? 
Almost every land has at least some of these favorite haunts that 
call upon us to '' come and see." Shall not history record the 
spot where men of renown drew their first breath ; and literature 
consecrate the hamlet where genius first saw the light or awoke 
the lyre ? Shall not the Greek be fired at the sight of Marathon, 
where the mighty fell in victory ? Shall not the philosopher be 
chained to Athens, the school where science taught, and the plat- 
form where oratory thundered ? Shall not the Jew linger with 
rapture over the vales where the father of the faithful pitched 
his tent, or the mountains on which Isaiah struck his harp, or the 
summit on which stood the temple of his God, like a glittering 
mount of snow in the profound of heaven ? Shall not the Scot- 
tish Covenanter bow with veneration over the hallowed spot 
where lies the martyr whom " persecution dragged forth to fame 
and chased up to heaven?" Shall not the Briton revere the spot 
on which the standard of Freedom wars first erected in England by 
Eobert Fitzwalter and the mail-clad barons of Runimede ? And 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

in another hemisphere shall not the true American regard with 
peculiar interest the memories of Lexington, Bunker's Hill and 
Yorktown, in which were begun, continued, and ended, the strug- 
gles of his country for her national Independence 1 

Protestant Irishmen: Some of you are descended from the 
ancient Irish Scots, who in early ages were the light of surround- 
ing nations, and from whom our country received the honorable 
appellation of Insula Sanctorum, or Island of Saints. In the be- 
ginning of the seventh century, when Aiden went over to England 
as a missionary from the Irish Church, (many of his countrymen 
being also engaged in like manner through nearly every part of 
Europe, including Southern Russia and the now famous Crimea) 
the Saxon king Oswald, who had been educated amongst the Irish 
Scots, thought it not beneath him to act as interpreter, for the ben- 
efit of his pagan Saxon subjects. In the language of Dr. Fuller, 
Prebendary of Sarum, England ; "these two put together made 
a perfect preacher. And though some will say, sermons thus 
at second hand lose much of their life and lustre; yet the same 
spirit working in both, proved effectual in the salvation of many 
souls." It was thus that the lamp of Erin shone brightly during 
the days ot her early greatness ; but a change, a fatal change, was 
destined to come over the spirit of her dream ; she that was once 
the asylum of religion and learning in Europe, and to her honor 
be it said, was the last European country that acknowledged the 
Papal Supremacy. 

I shall now pass over, with few remarks, the Anglo-Norman 
fonquest of 1172, which was the result of a Papal Bull from 
Adrian IV to Henry II, empowering the latter to " extend the 
boundaries of the church," and as a practical proof of having 
done so, he was to collect one carolus annually from each Irish 
family, for the support of the Papal authority, exercised by the 
Supreme Pontiff. In after years, when England and Scotland 
arose from the spiritual and temporal lethargy into which for ages 
they had fallen, and when they declared that Britons should and 
would be free, and that the power of Rome should enslave them 



" IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS 

no " 



longer, it was then the government of England committed that 
great mistake which has left Ireland a Popish country to this day. 
They imagined that by suppressing the Irish language they were 
destroying the influence of popery, when, in fact, they were doing 
exactly the reverse. If the English government had caused a 
translation of the Scriptures to be made into the Irish language, 
and appointed no clergyman to office in the church but such as 
were thoroughly acquainted with the language and manners of the 
people, the Reformation would have progressed there with greater 
rapidity than in any other country of Europe. It is no wonder, 
therefore, that Ireland has remained a Popish country, when such 
a blundering line of policy was adopted by her rulers at that criti- 
cal period of her national history. There were however, some 
honorable exceptions to the general rule, and amongst them was 
the venerable Bishop Bedell, of Kilmore, who learned the Irish 
language when over sixty years of age, and with the assistance of 
an educated Irishman made a translation of the Scriptures into 
that language. But it came a century too late; for immediately 
after, the Popish Massacre of 1641 swept the country, destroying 
200,000 of the Protestant inhabitants. The good old bishop died 
shortly afterwards from the effects of harsh treatment received at 
that time, while a prisoner in the hands of the Papists. But such 
was the estimation in which his character was held by some of 
them, who personally knew him, that a Jesuit friar, while stand- 
ing by his grave, exclaimed : " Would God ! that my soul were 
with Bedell !" 

When the general massacre occured, a remnant of the Prot- 
estants were saved by the timely information given on the da\ 
previous at Dublin Castle, by Owen O'Connelly, an Elder in the 
Presbyterian Church. During the same year when the Popish 
army under the Red O'Neill was carrying on the work of desola- 
tion and death to the full satisfaction of their Pontifical master 
and Jesuit leaders, it was at Lisnagarvey, (now Lisburn) a settle- 
ment of the Scots and English in Antrim, that they received their 
first grand defeat in Ulster. The attack was made on the Sab- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 7 

"oath, and so obstinate was the engagement that the town was re- 
duced to ashes, after which it was called by its present name. — 
Had not the inhabitants fought like sons of Maccabeus in defence 
of their rights, the name of Protestant would have been swept 
from the Northern shore; for the religious "exercises" of the 
Papists that morning consisted of an oath to that effect. Some, 
perhaps, who read this paper, will imagine that such atrocities as 
were then committed were a peculiarity of the Irish character. — 
Now, for the information of those who may labor under this 
erroneous impression, I have merely to state that if they substi- 
tute the word "Popish," for "Irish," they will arrive at a proper 
conclusion. In proportion to the fine susceptibilities of the soul 
on which popery may act, will be, as it has ever been, the conse- 
quent degradation. As for instance, a learned writer has well 
remarked that " drunkenness makes a beast of a man, and a devil 
of a woman" so, in like manner can the operations of popery be 
traced in their different workings on the several branches of the hu- 
man family. It was popery in England that caused five hundred 
English men, women and children to be burned at the stake by 
their pure Anglo Saxon countrymen, in the reign of bloody Queen 
Mary. It was popery in France that caused a million of Hu- 
guenots to be murdered, at one time, by their naturally chivalric 
fellow-countrymen. In none of the cases mentioned was it a pe- 
culiarity of the national character that led to the commission of 
those cool and deliberate murders that have handed down the 
" Church," at whose bidding they were committed, as an execra- 
tion to all generations. 

Had the Irish language been appreciated at the proper time, 
and missionaries sent through the people, Ireland would now be a 
different country. The English and Scottish Reformation suc- 
ceeded, having been conducted in the language of the people, but 
in Ireland the plan was otherwise, and as a matter of course, failed. 
Rome in her generation was wiser than England. The fatal er- 
ror, with regard to the language of Erin mavourneen acushla ma- 
rhree, was only equaled in later years by that in which they lost 



8 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

an empire greater than ever Cresar won. There is no dialect more 
expressive of the finer feelings of the soul, than the Irish. Of the 
Reformation it has been said: 

" And Oh ! be it heard in that language endearing, 
In which the fond mother her lullaby sung, 
Which spoke the first lispings of childhood and bearing 
The father's last prayer from his now silent tongue ; 
That so as it breathes the pure sound of devotion, 
And speaks with the power that stiil'd the rough ocean, 
Each breast may be calmed into gentle emotion, 
And Erin's wild harp to Hosannas be strung." 

The Irish are a peculiar people ; they have strong and ardent 
feelings, with resentments as quick as the impulses which lead 
them to be generous, high-minded and faithful. In the very fact 
of their continued hostility to England, we behold even in their 
degradation, the natural working of a noble character. If we take, 
for example, the Saxon and Celtic papists under foreign invasion, 
we find the former after one battle, bowing beneath the sceptre of 
William the Conqueror, while the latter for centuries resisted the 
oppression of the Norman and Saxon. After the Reformation, 
through the negligence of England, this noble principle was allow- 
ed to be perverted by the wily emissaries of a crafty foreign priest- 
hood, even so far as to endanger the existence of Protestantism 
in the British Islands. The Irish people have been grossly defam- 
ed. The monstrous and incredible fictions of ignorant and for- 
eigu authors, have, from the earliest age, been employed to 
excite the contempt of the English nation towards them. It is a mel- 
ancholy reflection, that the successive governments of England, 
should have been so long and so obstinately blind to the real in- 
terests of the country, as to conceive it more expedient to attempt 
the suppression of the national spirit by legal severity, than to 
adopt a system of national instruction and general industry ; giv- 
ing to the minds of the people, a proper tendency and peaceable 
direction. 

An enthusiastic attachment to the land of his birth, is a promi- 
nent trait of the Irish character, which neither time nor absence, 
prosperity, nor adversity, can obliterate or diminish. Wherever 



IRISH l'KOTKSTANT LETTERS. 



9 



mi Irishman is born, there he wishes to die, and however sucoess- 
full he may have been, in acquiring wealth or rank in foreign lands, 
he returns, with fond affection, to renew his intercourse with the 
friends and companions of his youth. The national character, as 
described by Giraldus Cambrensis, in the twelfth century, still 
remains true. " If an Irishman be a good man, there is no better ; 
if a bad man, there is none worse." 

Protestant Irishmen: Many of you are descended from 
blue-bonneted Scotchmen who came to our Green Isle two hun- 
dred years ago. When persecution raged hot at home, our laud 
became the refuge of those uncompromising defenders of the Faith, 
who came from the " land of the mountain and flood."— who left 
the homes of their nativity rather than disown the supremacy of 
Christ's crown and covenant, Is it necessary to recur to the days 
that are past, whichcan never be blotted from the history of the Prot- 
estant Church? Visit the mountainsof Scotland and contemplate the 
stern Cameronian — the enduring Covenanter. Where shall we 
find greater examples of noble daring than what have been display- 
ed within her borders? From the "bonnie Highland heither" of 
her lofty summits, to the modest lily of the vale — from the proud 
foaming crest of Solway, to the calm polished breast of Loch Ka- 
trine, not a river or lake but has swelled with the life-tide of free- 
men, in the land of Wallace — of Bruce — of Cameron, and of old 
Lochiel, " proud bird of the mountain." You, the sons of a 
gallant people, who came to the shores of Ulster as a colony re- 
turning to the mother country — for Ireland gave to Caledonia the 
Scottish name and race. Among the ornaments of the Scottish 
church of Ireland was Columba, born near Derry, in Ulster, A. 
D. 521. He became the Apostle of the Scots in Scotland. After 
the conversion of that people he received a grant from their king 
of the Island of Iona, for the purpose of establishing a Culdeau 
fraternity, or college. This place afterward became a great sem- 
inary of the church, and from it came many celebrated missiona- 
ries, who carried the Gospel through Britain and other countries 
of Europe. To the Scotch-Irish we owe the Presbyterian Church 



10 IRISH PROrESTANT LETTERS. 

of Ireland, with its thousand congregations, which have made Ul- 
ster to blossom as a rose, by restoring the primitive faith of our 
fathers, when our country was known as the Island of Saints. 

Protestant Irishmen : Many of you are descended from the 
honest Saxon Englishmen, who at various times have settled in 
Ireland. As Protestants, you have ever been found amongst the 
brightest ornaments of our country. The Episcopal Church, to 
which you belong, has produced meu eminent for rare talents, 
literary attainments and exemplary piety, such as Ussher, Bedell 
and Taylor, whose praise is in all the churches. You have been 
amongst the foremost in practical attention to industry, with it& 
accompanying results, law and order. As a body you are not to 
be held responsible for the errors committed by the English gov- 
ernment, in the days that are past. Such as, for instance, the un- 
wise measures adopted at the time of the Reformation, and after- 
wards in the reign of Queen Anne, when " Dissenters " or Pres- 
byterians who had been most active in bringing about the glorious 
Revolution of 1088, were placed under civil disabilities nearly 
equal to those papists who had treacherously conspired to over- 
throw the liberties of Great Britain. It was this short-sighted 
policy that produced such alienation in the North of Ireland, and 
caused the great emigration from that place to this country. And 
as a kind of retributive justice, from those very men came the first 
Declaration of Independence in the United Stales, at Mecklenburgh, 
Charhtle count]/, North Carolina. 

Protestant Irishmen : Some of you are descended from the 
aoble-minded Huguenots who came to Ireland after the revocation 
of the Edict of Nantz. Your ancestors were exiled from then 
fatherland — the peaceful valleys and vine-clad hills of France. 
Their homes were destroyed, their churches desecrated, and theii 
pastors slain by the sword. The rights gratefully extended by a 
king whom they have elevated to the throne, were withdrawn by 
i perjured successor, at the instigation of a shaven priestly horde, 
the servants of " the Man of Sin and Son of Perdition." 

Among the settlements made by the Huguenots in Ireland, 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 1 1 

was one at Lisburn, where they commenced the linen trade, to 
which they had been brought up. It has ever since been success- 
fully carried on by the inhabitants of that town, and Ulster ge- 
nerally, until Irish linens from their superior finish have attained 
a world-wide celebrity being used in all civilized countries. I may 
here mention the fact that nearly all the crowned heads of Europe 
are supplied with the produce of the diaper and damask manu- 
factories of Lisburn. The armorial and other devices of each. 
whether emblematic of rank or achievements, are tastefully drawn 
in the pattern of the work, so that family traditions are handed 
down to posterity in a style hitherto unknown and unattempted. 
This flourishing trade is the due result of wise forethought on the 
part of the British Government, when it received the Huguenot 
exiles who had been driven from their native land by the power 
of priestly ignorance and fanaticism. They were given a patent 
for conducting the linen manufacture according to the custom of 
their own country ; and not only that, but their pastor, whom they 
brought with them, was supported by an annual grant from the 
treasury, though he did not belong to the Established Church. 
The virtuous conduct and civilized manners of those worthy people 
were of great advantage to the place. Their skill and industry 
set an example to those who were engaged in the same business, 
which soon had the effect of raising the quality of their manufac- 
ture to a degree of excellence till then unknown. It is rather 
strange that the names of only four of the refugees are to be found 
at the present time in that locality, viz. : Crommelin, DeLache- 
rois, Gayer and Dubourdieu. To the first-mentioned the patent 
was granted : the third was sexton of the church, and the fourth 
was the name of the pastor, the Rev. Samourez Dubourdieu. The 
writer recollects seeing some of the descendants of those just men- 
tioned ; amongst them was one bearing the full name of the 
pastor. 

Irishmen — Protestant Irishmen : You men — the true men — 
the sons of '88 — who never turned your backs to friend or foe — 
whose names are recorded on the brightest pages of Britain's his- 



12 IRISEI PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

tory, and whose noble acts appear in bold relief, on the highest 
column of human renown Your military prowess is well repre- 
sented by the Enniskillen Dragoons, who first volunteered in 
1688, and after many decisive engagements in which the enemy 
was defeated, they waved their flag of victory in company with 
the Huguencts on the beautiful banks of the Boyne. Coming far 
ther down the stream of time, we find them on the bloody but 
decisive field of Waterloo, with their ancestral countrymen, the 
Scots Grays, v,here they charged victoriously the mail-clad 
warriors of France, Napoleon's cuirassiers. In more recent times 
we see them at the gallant eharge of Balaklava, where they gallopped 
through a dense body of the Muscovite cavalry, five times their 
number, of which the London Times Correspondent remarks : 
"The inspiriting cheer of the Scots Grays,and the wild shouts of 
the Enniskilleners rang through the air as they dashed into the 

ranks of the enemy. 

*********** 

"It was the fight of heroes." Yea, a revival of the Ossianic 
days by the descendants of the Ossianic heroes, the sons of "Sco- 
tia Major'''' (Ireland) and " Scotia Minor''' (Scotland.) As an in- 
stance of which may be cited, the Enniskillen Dragoon Captain, 
who killed over twelve of the enemy by the sword alone. Our 
brethren who fell in battle (some of whom were found among the 
dead, with the Orange scarf around them) shall not die unknown 
to lame, for the sons of generations yet to come, will speak with 
due ancestral pride of the chivalric heroism displayed by the old 
British Islanders — the colonizers of the world. The names of Al- 
ma, and the twice-told Spartan band of Balaklava — the Light 
Brigade, who charged through the " Valley of the Shadow of 
Death ! " The old Gaelic rock, against which dashed without ef- 
fect the unbroken waves of the Don Cossack ! The gallant deeds 
of Inkermann, before which pales the splendor of Cressy, Agincourt, 
and Waterloo. Those men who now sleep the sleep of death be- 
neath the cold Crimean soil, and of whom the great Kossuth has 
well said: "The world admires, and Great Britain bewails," have 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. Hi- 

left a name and fame behind them, that shall descend to the 
latest posterity, animating by their bright example, the warriors 
of coming ages. 

Protestant Irishmen : Steady adherence to principle has ev- 
er formed a distinguished trait in your national history. It has 
not been the result of fitful emotion or momentary impulse carried 
on through a spirit of antagonism. A higher and holier motive 
has characterized your course of action. The popularity of any 
movement has not led you to an adoption of its principles; nei- 
ther has its popularity caused you to reject them. With you, 
truth has been prized for its own inherent excellence, and not from 
the garb in which it may have been forced to appear. You 
have defended the cause of truth in days gone by, not as a mat- 
ter of interest, but from a love of noble principle. 

When the troubled waters of Torbay bore on their heaving 
bosom the illustrious Prince of Orange, and Englishmen received 
him coldly, for they feared the consequences, you, Protestant 
Irishmen, received him afterwards at Bangor on the iron-bound 
coast of Ulster with a cead mille failthe—(a hundred thousand 
welcomse ;) for on his banner was inscribed Je mciinlandrai — "1 
will maintain the liberties of England. Concur with us in our de- 
sire to secure these nations from Popery and Slavery." As in 
the days that are past, you were instrumental in overthrowing the 
despotism which then ruled in Great Britain ; so, by a steady 
adherence to the same principles, you and your descendants may 
yet act a similar part in defending the liberties of this country. 
The day may not be far distant when Popery — that ancient enemy 
af civil and religious liberty — will openly assail trie rights of free- 
born men. It has done so before ; and if Americans would only 
keep quiet and "tolerate" the system, it would be perfectly will- 
ing to do so again. At present it is only waiting until a more- 
favorable opportunity shall occur. 

In the meanwhile, be always ready to meet the foe ; let the 
counsels of your fathers be forever entwined around the tendrils 
of fondest recollection ; and let not the memories ot other years 



14 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

pass along the stream of time into the dull sea of forgetfulness. 
I speak advisedly to the sons of men whose broad swords and 
green graves, are in their island home beyond the sea. It is 
scarcely necessary for me to say that you have heard with your 
ears, and your fathers have declared unto you the abominations ot 
Popery, that were committed in their time, (1798) and in the old 
time which went before them. (1641.) 

Protestant fellow-countrymen : — Nearly every class of for- 
eigners in this country have a representative society ; we have 
none. Englishmen have the St. George's Society ; Welchmen, 
the St. David's Society ; Scotchmen, the St. Andrew's Society ; 
Irish Romanists, the St. Patrick's Society ; Dutchmen, the St. 
Nicholas' Society ; Frenchmen, Germans, Italians, Canadians, New 
Englanders, are all represented by exclusive organizations. In 
these there is no harm so long as they are conducted in the pro- 
per sphere to which they naturally belong — that is, non-politicaL 
The main object of all societies of this kind should be to promote 
literary or benevolent plans of action for mutual benefit; they 
should look after the general welfare, encourage the literature, 
and elevate the moral standard of those whom they represent. 
In this way they are useful, not only to themselves, but to all 
those with whom they may come in contact. When politics are 
introduced into such associations, and become identified with 
them, there arises, as a matter of course, a spirit of antagonism in 
those to whom they are opposed, which is not at any time desi- 
rable for the peace or welfare of an immigrant population. The 
first and great commandment for all foreigners to learn, is obe- 
dience to the established laws of the country in which they may 
reside. Whenever they mingle in politics, they generally 
wind up with becoming the fag-end of some designing political 
party whose wire-pulling propensities are fully equal to the sim- 
plicity of the dupes on whom they operate. The party which have 
least reliance on the merits of their cause with the native popula- 
tion, will, as a matter of course, be most cringing to foreignism — 
not necessarily to advance it, but merely to use it as a ladder on 



IRISH VROTESTANT LETTERS. 15 

which they may advance themselves above those who have the 
honor to make no such appeals. Of such characters I shall say no 
more ; they are living epistles known and read of all men. Their 
head-quarters, a friend has just informed me, can be discerned in 
fine weather, without the aid of a telescope, by the weary travel- 
ler who exchanges the shady groves and jetting fountain of the 
Park for the pleasures of the Bowery. 

I now leave with you the project of forming an association of 
the kind just mentioned, hoping that it may meet with your fa- 
vorable attention. Such an one is much wanting amongst the 
great body of our countrymen at present in the United States. 
The words of the immortal Hampden (adopted as the motto of 
the Dublin Protestant Association) are well worthy of receiving 
practical attention in this age of self-complacency — " Protestant- 
ism is looked upon as a word honorable, and not only the word, 
but the thing to the last drop of blood." 



16 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



Letter I. 
John Milchel and True Irishmen, 
[The following communication was addressed to the Editor 
of the New York Daily Times, hut was rejected from grounds of 
policy. — Ed. New York True American, May 20, 1854.] 

Editor of the N. Y. Daily Times. — Dear Sir . As an " Irish- 
man under forty," and if it please John Mitchel better, under 
thirty — yea, under twenty-five, I address this note to you, as I 
have seen in your paper an article copied from a late number ot 
the Citizen, in which I found myself collectively addressed by the 
person who wrote said article. After going through the usual 
stereotyped abuse of England, adopted by such vitriol-bottle "pa- 
triots" as the Editor of said paper, among other words he has the 
following : " The British institutions of* Famine and Fever" as 
though they formed part of the National Budget, thereby divest- 
ing them of all the character of being dispensations of Providence. 
After passing on, I find him saying again, " Trusting there are 
hundreds of thousands of young men in Ireland, whose cheeks 
flush with secret passion, when they think of their country's lowly 
condition, and who statedly curse in their prayers the felonious 
Union Jack. I address myself to them alone." Now, sir, I most 
emphatically repudiate and reject all such advice from such reck- 
less characters as what he has. been and still continues. In Dub- 
lin, my native, city, his military tactics were barricades for men, 
and vitriol-bottles for the women. Since his arrival here, I find 
he has rather improved in that line; for he says that if it could be 
had he would use hell-fire to destroy the enemy. Now, all such 
boasting is vain, as it serves no purpose but to show the world 
what hellish notions have taken possession of the poor man's 
brain, were it unfortunately in his power to execute, but hap- 
pily for the peace of society, and the welfare of Ireland in partic- 
ular, it is utterly out of the power of all such to reduce their theo 
ries to practice. 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS, 17 

I am really at a loss how to account for the " Maiden City" 
producing such a man. He may, perhaps, have been changed by 
the freaks of some malicious " fayry," for he is not a politically le- 
gitimate son of the immortal city of the " Prentice Boys," whose 
fame rings in each Orangeman's ears, which Erin's hills have heard, 
and heard too, have her Celtic foes. 

In the Times of the 28th March, I find an editorial, headed 
" England and the Irish," in which you say it is all very well for 
isolated Protestant Irishmen to deny that they cherish any 
feeling of hostility towards England," &c. Now, sir, I feel most 
happy to inform you that in Ireland we are not insolated, but are 
a body of three millions strong, men, women and children, while 
our "natural enemies." the priest-ridden and "willingly ignorant" 
popish celts, such as you may see landing every day, are not more 
than three and a half million, and that of the lowest and most de- 
based stamp. As they clear out, the country gradually rises in 
the scale of nations ; their places are now being filled by another 
element composed of the Protestant " Saxon," and "Scot," noted 
for their steadiness, industry and sobriety. In Ireland, we have 
two hundred thousand men banded together for the defence of the 
Protestant faith, when occasion demands. Would to God that 
such a body had been in existence in 1641, and the massacre of 
two hundred thousand inoffensive English and Scotch settlers 
would not have occurred. 

Sir, if you had been present with me at the beautiful town of 
Lisburn, so delightfully situated beside the river Lagan, which sep- 
arates the counties of Antrim and Down, (where, if Burns had 
lived would have been immortalized in song,) you would have 
seen an Orange procession of eighty thousand men, on the 12th 
of July, 1848, as they passed in review through that town on their 
way to the residence of the late James Watson, Esq., Justice of 
the Peace, and Deputy Lieutenant of the county of Antrim, a 
cousin of the writer's father, and the County Grand Master of the 
Orangemen. You would not then speak of " isolated Protestants," 
but rather the reverse, when you would see that their objects were 



18 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

happy homes and altars free. " Union now and forever," with 
England, and prosperity to the tri-une island Empire, and peace 
and prosperity to the Anglo-Saxon race all over the world, wheth- 
er they be Monarchical or Republican. 

I am an Irish Presbyterian Covenanter, descended from the 
men whose blood crimsoned the Dee and Clyde, as well as the 
heather of the Pentland Hills in Scotland in defence of civil and re- 
ligious liberty, when they threw off the yoke of the perjured and 
faithless House of Stuart by declaring that " we do disown the 
said Charles Stuart from reigning or rather tyrannizing over us," 
in the Sanquhar " Declaration of Independence," down, to where 
an ancestor of mine, a widow with an only son ot fifteen, left the 
land of her fathers to escape the military despotism that then 
ruled in that country under Claverhouse, and came to Ireland, but 
it was only flying from the hands of prelacy to fall into that of 
the most bigoted and blood-thirsty Irish papists, to be driven with 
thirty thousand others of the defenceless Irish Protestants, who 
were robbed, and then driven from their homes to be massacred 
in the open fields by the Irish kerns and gallow-glasses, with whom 
the name of Protestant became the password to the grave. These 
" wild Irish " formed the cowardly army (i. e. in regular action) 
of the perjured James II., when Marshall Rosen, the French Gen- 
eral, told his men to go bring him Derry stone by stone, at the 
famous seige of 1088. 

Imagine the proud and naturally chivalric sons of France 
amalgamated with the blood thirsty Irish approaching Derry's 
gates. Confusion reigns within, for a traitor has a seat in the 
Council — one Lundy, from whom perhaps, Mitchel has been study- 
ing, in order to make his country either a Romish Rupublic with the 
Pope as perpetual President, or a French Colony; they waver-they 
halt, but the foe advances. What inspirited cheer is that which 
bursts upon the ear ] Tis " No Surrender !"' Whose bold 
hands are those that close the gates — aye, and slam them in the 
tyrant's face 1 And another " No Surrender !" makes the welkin 
ring. 'Twas from the gallant " Prentice Boys," who acted when 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 19 

action was required — then manned the walls, and shouted "No 
Surrender !" and by their means the city was preserved. The 
siege was long and weary, until not a live rat was left ; when the 
Dartmouth spread her snow-white sail, her purple pendant flying, 
she broke the boom laid across the Foyle, and brought relief to 
the ' Maiden city,' but not until many had perished, for the obi 
man and the babe all died together. 

They did not as your " Kenmare" correspondent state* o( 
some of his countrymen, during the Irish famine in 1848, eat their 
children. Such barbarity does not exist among a civilized people. 

R. R. B. Dublin. 



Letter II. 



John Mitchel and the Invasion of Canada. — The position of the 
forma- regard to the "Irish" or popish party. — Their 

leaders. — C Meagher and Mitchel. — The New York "Irish 
Universal Civil and Military Republican Union " under Presi- 
dent CMalley. 

Thos. Picton Esq. 

Editor of the True American. 
Dear Sir : — Your having had the kindness to publish my for- 
mer communication addressed to the N. Y. Daily Times, contain- 
ing some facts for the information of that Journal and its sapient 
friend, John Mitchel, the Irish veteran "Patriot " of 1848, has in- 
duced me to write the following: 

The Daily Times, not long since, as you may be aware, 
started the idea of an invasion of Canada, not by Americans, but 
by a party of Irishmen, who were, of course, desirous of extend- 
ing the " area of freedom" and particluarly so, under their gallant 
leader, whose daily aspirations are, that he may yet five to have 



2tt IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

the 'Mat plantation well stocked," down South, where he can sing 
to the tune of 

" Oh, Duffy, don't you cry for me, 

I'm going to Alabama with the 'Citizen' on my knee !" 

to the no small joy of his friends. When that happy period shall 
arrive which his fertile imagination seems to have presented be- 
fore him as one of the golden apples of freedom, he will then be 
in a position to form a Black Guard, himself to be their Chief; 
they will form the van of his invincible army, he then can gather 
his Milesian countrymen (papists of course) the hewers of wood 
and drawers of water from Maine to Texas ; with these he can 
march for Canada, duly equipped with the " best imported"shille- 
laghs and pikes and also two quart bottles in each knapsack filled 
respectively with whiskey and vitriol. After having crossed the 
modern Rubicon, he will then be met by a certain class of "stolen 
property " having the gift of human speech, who will come out 
with songs of rejoicing to welcome their great deliverer from 
"British tyranny " to the air of 

"See the conquering Hero comes" 

or, 

" Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances." 

After the annexation has been settled and the enemy anni- 
hilated, he can then gather the remaining Heroes of Ballingarry and 
the Veterans of the Cabbage-Garden campaign : and when sur- 
rounded by those modem " Greek" Spartans he shall then have a 
noble opportunity of forming a new Thermopylae in the world's 
history by striking one decisive blow which shall annihilate the 
" Sassenach" or Anglo-Saxon race in Ireland a la 1641. 

However, to speak seriously, Mitchel is not the real leader 
of even the Irish papists who have sworn allegiance to the tempo- 
ral and spiritual despot that sits on the seven hills (wonderfully 
supported by seven thousand French bayonets) as the legal suc- 
cessor of Hildebrand, and who attempts to rule the world by that 
infernal Order blasphemously called the " Society of Jesus," of 
whom Thomas Brown, the first Reformed Archbishop of Dublin 
very quaintly and wisely said " They go not with Jesus who go 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



21 



with the Jesuits." The Irish papists are told by their " Church" 
that Mitchel must be on the way to damnation, by being a "vile 
heretic" " outside the pale" and their only object in using him at 
all is as a tool whereby they may overthrow, if possible, the noble 
Protestant British Nation, and on its ruins build papal suprem- 
acy in things both temporal and spiritual. The Freeman's Jour- 
nal says that " he is a man who never takes advice ; no, not by 
any means," meaning of course that he is not a sufficiently pliant 
tool of the Jesuits ; he, however, is willing to go a great length 
for them as he says that he " finds in them a fund of inextinguish- 
able hatred to the British Government. " True ! but why is it 
so ? Because it has served as the greatest barrier against popery 
in Europe, and even the world. The Jesuits have the greatest re- 
spect for the crowned heads of Austria and Naples, the greatest 
and pettiest despots in the world. 

The Irish Papists appear now to have given up the task as 
rather hopeless to suppress freedom of speech in this free country. 
They began a little too soon, and were obliged to give it over be- 
fore they had expected to do so. Brownson, the popish champion 
of the United States, repudiates them for bringing foreignism into 
the country, although he well knows that it is only the practical 
outworking of the system to which en passant he has allied him- 
self. 

Mitchel has recently turned stag on the Romish priests and 
their organs, the editors of which, he says, are " not personally 
worth shooting," while his " compatriot," O'Meagher, as he called 
himself, on his outward bound voyage at his country's expense, a 
man who was educated at the Jesuit college of Stoneyhurst, Lan- 
cashire, England, has thought some of them, at least, worth cow- 
hiding. See recent accounts of the difficulty between the afore- 
said Mr. O'Meagher and Mr. McMasters. It reminds me of the 
old verse commencing : 

" Per atque Mac veros eognoscis Hibernc-3 
His duobus demptis nullis Hibernus adest." 



22 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

Which has been thus freely rendered : 

By Mc and you'll surely know 

True Irishmen they say, 
But if they lack both and Mc 

No Irishmen are they !" 

It is really very ungrateful for Mitchel to throw aside his 
former patrons in that manner, when it was to them that he prin- 
cipally owed his political advancement as their quandom leader, 
f John, New York, sending over $500 towards revolutionizing 
Ireland. But as he is now in a free country, he thinks he can get 
along better without their assistance than with it ; of which no 
doubt he can on his own account, but not as an Irish leader. In 
the meanwhile perhaps they may own : 

" He was right to dissemble his love 
But why did he kick them down stairs." 

He has recently shown some smartness, by endeavoring to 
cause one object to have the appearance of two ; in other words 
to make two Popes out of one, viz : A temporal and a spiritual. 
Such a statement may pass with those who are in the habit of 
seeing double, either under the spiritual influence of Hughes or 
Monongahela, but not with any one who looks with a single eye 
to passing events. It reminds me forcibly of a story told of an 
honest peasant who felt considerable alarm for the safety of a 
bishop's soul. The bishop was a sovereign prince, and lived in 
great pomp and splendor. 

The countryman believed there was but one rule of faith and 
practice, he could not therefore get down the regal pomp and 
magnificence by which he believed the soul of the bishop was en- 
dangered, when he unbosomed his anxiety to the princely eccle- 
siastic who said, 'Be not alarmed, my pious friend, for the safety 
of my soul. The magnificence which you see does not attach to 
my character as a Christian Bishop, but only to my rank and office, 
as an earthly prince." " Ah !" said the poor pious man, shaking 
his head, " it may be so, but when the prince goes to hell, what 
will become of the bishop ?" Can Mitchel inform the public ? 

I see there has been a meeting lately held, of a society call- 
ing itself "the Irish Universal Civil and Military Republican Union;" 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 23 

having for its supposed object, the extension of Republican Free- 
dom, but in reality, it is only the tool of the popish priestcraft 
and will accordingly be used as such, either in this country or at 
the other side, in case they should fail here. Their intentions are, 
so far as Ireland is concerned, to effect, if possible, a separation 
from Protestant England, the only bulwark of liberty in Europe 
at the present day ; and if this could be accomplished, they would 
then (as all their antecedents show) use the civil power for the 
propagation of popery over the face of that fair land, until it should 
be reduced to that degraded condition which has so long marked 
the popish provinces of Connaught and Munster, and even proud, 
Albion in her popish days, when Englishmen worshipped the tail of 
an ass, and were excommunicated for clipping the tail of a horse 
without clerical authority, in the clays of Henry the Second, who 
by the civil power carried popery into Ireland. Such was the 
state of affairs in Saxon England, during the Episcopate of the 
literal Saxon Saracen, Thomas a'Becket, Lord Archbishop of 
Canterbury ; who even excommunicated men for speaking 
against him in those halcyon days of popish rule. That individ- 
ual now hangs on the Romish calendar as a saint of the first 
water ! 

Under the same system, in the reign of King John, dental 
operations were performed by royal authority on a certain Jew 
of Bristol, who permitted seven teeth to be extracted before pay- 
ing an arbitrary fine of 10,000 marks, which had been levied on 
him by the King, who had just previously sworn in the most 
abject manner to the papal Nuncio, that he would only hold 
Britannia's Isle, as the pope's vassal forever by a payment of 1000 
marks annually to the reigning Pope. The Jew, however, who 
lost both his teeth and money for the good of the " Church," was 
not so bad a case after all as multitudes of his brethren were, that 
were burned in York Castle during the same reign on account of 
their belief. However, to return to this wonderful body just come 
into existence, with a mushroom growth, and to which has been 
given a very long name, viz : " The Irishmen's Universal C ; vil and 



24 . IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

Military Republican Union." I find it has been duly reported by 
one of its friends of the N. Y. Daily Times ; according to the re- 
port,it was presided over by an individual of the masculine name 
of Molloy, or perhaps it should be O'Molloy, some distant rela- 
tion of Charles O'Malley, the renowned Irish Dragoon. In his re- 
ported address, after putting one of Emmett's figures of speech 
to a horrible death by the most refined cruelty, he winds up 
with the assertion that there shall be one of the bloodiest revolu- 
tions in Ireland, which that country has ever yet seen, and that it 
shall be accomplished by the aid of a hundred thousand Irishmen 
armed in this country for that specific purpose. The precedents 
of 1641 and 1798 are to be as nothing in comparison with this 
mighty effort. 

After the departure of this Quixotic band of filibusters for 
Erin ard innis na Righ, the U. S. Congress Hall should be draped 
in mourning and business generally suspended for a week, on ac- 
count of the public loss sustained by the removal of so many 
" better citizens," who are the bulwark of this Republic, and if 
they remained, the pledge of its future unrivalled greatness. It 
now remains with the native citizens to see whether they are fully 
prepared to meet such a drain from the military resources of the 
Union, as the one now under contemplation ; for if once gone they 
shall never return — Britannia and Neptune having fully agreed 
vto take them in charge for the remainder of their natural lives. 
If such were not the case, I reckon that there are as many men in 
New York city, both Orange aud Blue, as could charter and man 
one,(no more being necessary,) of Uncle Sam's A. I. O. K. steam- 
ers, and tow the whole concern, after allowing them one good Kil- 
kenny fight, off Sandy Hook, either into Mitchel's native Derry ; 

Where Foyle his swelling waters 

Rolls northward to the t main, 
And tells of days of dauntless note, 

And Derry's deathless fame," &c. 

into Belfast Lough, or Dublin Bay, just as convenience might 
dictate, and then leave them all in charge of the proper authori- 
ties, to be dealt with as he, that was often reproved and hardened 
his neck. 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 25 



Letter III. 



Influence of Jesuitism on American politics — Political foreigners 
and their antecedents — The Naturalization laws and their great 
convenience for the naturalization of popery in the United 
States. 

The chief aim of the Jesuits, after working all they can at the 
noble Constitution of 1688, is to undermine, (they being the "sap- 
pers and miners " of popery) and destroy popularity by corrup- 
tion the glorious Constitution of 1776. They know how to at- 
tack objectionable Republics, as well as Monarchies, in order to 
bring all under the temporal power of their master, whom they 
consider as the legitimate Ruler of the world, calling him, " Our 
Lord God, the Pope," also "Vicegerent of Christ on earth," and 
that all the ends of the world should fear him. Such ideas are, of 
course, fatal to any free and independent country. Therefore let 
the Reformed Anglo-Saxon and Celtic race now indissolubly united, 
by the glorious Reformation, beware, for their greatest enemies 
are the Jesuits. Let Americans, particularly remember the pro- 
phetic words of the wise La Fayette, when he exclaimed, " If ev- 
er the liberties of this Republic are destroyed, it will be through 
the machinations of Romish Priests," and the sage advice of that 
eminent statesman, Jefferson, of Monticello, when he said, " The 
price of liberty is eternal vigilance ;" and also the paternal admo- 
nition of the Father of his Country, in his parting address, where 
he said, " Against the insiduous wiles of foreign influence, the 
jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly awake. It is on« 
of the most baneful foes of a Republican Government." How 
then can Americans remain in that state of apathetic indifference, 
which seems to characterize a great proportion of them at the 
present day, with those wise counsels of the Revolutionary Fath- 
ers still echoing in their ears. When they see the serpent ceils of 
Jesuitism enfolding with its deadly influence the most vital part 



26 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

of that constitution, which they have received as an inheritance 
by the bravery of their fathers, even one that should never be 
sold. It is now attacked by that serpent which is as the deaf 
adder, that stoppeth her ear, and will not hearken to the voice ot 
(political) charmers, charming never so wisely. Americans should 
be on their guard for this "foreign influence" comes from the foul, 
pent up waters of the Tiber, where the sediment of over twelve 
hundred years, moral and physical despotism has accumulated, 
and is now being stirred up again by those who were the means 
(under Satan) of causing it to be there. It is now emitting its 
noxious gases as a political miasma over all free countries. As a 
foul atmosphere, it may not be seen, but in its effects it will be 
felt to be most deadly. Therefore, let the true born sons of Prot- 
estant America, preserve that clear air of Freedom, by which 
they are surrounded, which was purified by seven years thun- 
der, and that transparent river of Liberty, which flows from the 
rock of '76, after being smitten by the hand of Washington. 

As a foreigner, it may appear strange that I entirely disap- 
prove of the practice legally established, of giving all the rights 
of a native born citizen to any and every foreigner who may chance 
to come along. America does not need their assistance to aid 
her in self-government, she is perfectly able to take care of her- 
self. It is a very bad system of policy to allow any of them what- 
ever to approach the ballot box, when America by an act patent 
to the world declared herself free and independent from all foreign 
powers : yet, strange to say, she calls in the assistance of the can- 
aille and off-scourings of Europe, the graduates of prisons, peniten- 
tiaries, and penal colonies, from whence many of them have been 
sent by their overseers, being told that this was a land of liberty, 
where they could make their own laws, and do just as they liked 
in carrying on their old avocations. 

It is, with very few exceptions, the personal interest of for- 
eigners to come here, and the idea of giving them a stake in the 
welfare of the country, by allowing them votes, is clear moonshine, 
they will remain so long as it is their interest to do so, but be- 



IK1SU PROTESTANT LETTERS. 27 

yond that never. No immigrant whatever should have any influ- 
ence or control over the domestic affairs of this land; if they do 
not like the legislation to which they may find themselves subject, 
why let them move on to some other place more congenial to 
their natural instincts ; but by no means give them the power to 
model the laws after their own pre-conceived notions of equity or 
right. 

Foreigners, as a class, aim only at putting in some of their 
own factions, and when that fails they make sure of the most cor- 
rupt American one existing. There are of course exceptions to 
every general rule, and with regard to the exclusion of foreigners 
from citizenship there might be one made in favor of any person 
who had rendered the country some distinguished service, to be 
determined on afterwards by the proper authorities, after which 
there might be a special act of Congress passed in his favor, ad- 
mitting him to the full enjoyment thereof, on condition of his 
permanently residing in this country, but beyond this it should 
never extend. 

It is now high time that Americans should make a complete al- 
teration in their existing naturalization laws, if they wish to pre- 
serve in their integrity the principles of 1776. The idea of swear 
ing foreigners against the different governments of those coun- 
tries from whence they came, when perhaps the majority of them 
never owed allegiance to any under the sun, is rather ludicrous. 
Witness the confession of "Col." Michael Doheny, ex-Adjutant 
General to the forces that never were beat — for running away, at 
Slieve-na-mon and the Devil's Bit mountains in wild Tipperary. 
In au address to some of his kerns last winter, he said that he 
" considered it very strange to be sworn against a power he never 
acknowledged." His case may be taken for that of thousands 
who are every day being naturalized. If foreigners must be citi- 
zenized, why not make them disown the powers they do acknowl- 
edge in particular, (if any) instead of those they do not? For 
example, Papists never owe allegiance to any government which 
in its turn does not acknowledge the temporal and spiritual supre- 



28 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

macy of the Pope; they often pretend to take oaths of loyalty to 
the State in which they may live, but undei those circumstances 
every priest they meet has it in his power at any moment to ab- 
solve them from all obligations thereto. 

The only way to get rid of this evil, is by allowing none of them 
a chance to perjure themselves. On this subject the Rev. John 
Brown, the learned Commentator, has the following appropriate 
remarks, that are much to the point in the present case. "Oaths 
in our country, are almost become of no use, with many, but to 
ensnare their souls,, and dishonor God. None are readier to take 
them, than those wlio intend to break them at the first opportunity''' 
&c. 

The two great classes of foreigners, who arrive here daily 
are Papists, and Protestants, the former have a large majority, 
and are bound by their sacramental oaths, to uphold the spiritual 
and temporal power of the Pope, or Prince of Rome, (whose un- 
bounded ambition, aims at universal empire, his motto being still, 
" semper eadum") against all, and every existing power, with 
which he may come into contact ; and if they fail to do so, they 
are fully assured, that their " manifest destiny" will without 
doubt, be worse, than the unquenchable fires of purgatory. Pa- 
pists born on the soil are equally dangerous, with the worst for- 
eigners, as they are bound in like manner to uphold the Papal 
Supremacy, in the widest sense of the term; see Brownson's Re- 
view and other ultramontane popish journals, published in this 
country, with the full approbation (printed on their covers,) of the 
Romau Hierarchy in America. This phase of foreignism might 
even be considered the most dangerous, were it not for its numer- 
ical weakness. In my opinion, foreigners have no right what- 
ever, to enjoy those privileges, that naturally belong to native 
citizens. All they ought to expect should be equal rights before 
the law, without the liberty of controlling it. The natives of 
any country that has been civilized, who are not, willingly, 
under a temporal or spiritual despotism, may safely be presumed 
to know, what kind of laws, are best suited to the manners and 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 29 

customs, as well as the national and historical position of the 
land in which they live and are acquainted with from birth. 

Protestant foreigners, as a body, are willing to forego the 
rights of citizenship, in order that their children, in the first gen- 
eration, may by birth, come into possession of an uncontaminated 
Protestant free Republic. Their position as a class, is materi- 
ally different from that of the Papists, in both a civil and a re- 
ligious point of view ; yet still there may be a majority of them 
who inherit as it were by birth certain partialities, innocent in 
themselves and perfectly justifiable in the countries to which they 
belong ; but yet are unsuited to the position of this great Re- 
public; for that reason, and no other, would it be proper to ex- 
clude them in common with all foreigners, from all participation 
in the Elective Franchise. As a class they are most friendly to 
the Constitution ofthis country, and would do everything which 
lay in their power to preserve it against all enemies. 

Why will Americans still continue to leave open their gates 
ot citizenship to foreigners, indiscriminately, when for one friend, 
there are more than twenty foes pass in at the same time, 
whose object in doing so is not to preserve, but to betray the cita- 
del of the American Constitution, into the hands of that sworn 
enemy of Liberty, by whom they have been sent for that pur- 
pose, in order more effectually to destroy the palladium of Amer- 
ican freedom? It is now high time that Americans should close 
their gates against the enemy, who still continues to come in like 
a flood, threatening with utter destruction, the very foundation of 
/American principles. 



Letter IV. 

The American movement and its enemies — The principle of the 
American Revolution and its future prospects— The danger of 
Popery as seen in its present appearance and past history . 
I am glad to find by corroborative evidence from the differ- 



30 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

ent sections of this great Union that the American party has 
taken such deep root in its own native soil, and that from the 
smallest of plants, it has now become as the towering and majes- 
tic oak, beneath whose shadow shall yet repose in safety, those 
true sons of Freedom, by whom it has been nourished. 

The American movement now presents such a bold, deter 
mined front to its combined enemies of Popish Despots, Red Re- 
publicans, and Native Traitors, as for a time, to have completely 
paralyzed their efforts against it ; they look as though they had 
been stunned by its first appearance — their position resembles 
that of a gang of robbers who have been discovered in their cave 
by a superior force while in the act of dividing the prey taken 
by them from honest men, who have at last come upon them in 
what they considered their inaccessible retreat. Yet we are told 
that the men by whom this important discovery has lately been 
made, are all profound Know-Nothings. Of that, however, I shall 
say nothing, but leave the subject with a discriminating public, 
until such times when actions shall speak louder than words. 

There is now a comparative calm, but it is only that which 
presages the coming of a mighty tempest, that shall uproot the 
miserable undergrowth of foreign and domestic traitors that sur- 
rounded, and by its influence, endeavored to destroy the noble 
tree of liberty. 

The old wire-pulling politicians are now beginning to cast 
down their nets into the sea of American freedom ; but they 
might as well save themselves the trouble, and hold on to the 
usual Irish and German poodles, to which they have been hither- 
to accustomed. After next November, a great many of them 
may be seen in a most disconsolate condition, wandering about 
the piers of public opinion, with the old cry, " We have toiled all 
the night and caught nothing j" and very likely never will for 
their days are numbered. 

The American Revolution was pre-eminently founded on the 
principle of freedom, but true liberty itself, is the abiding essence of 
Protestantism; without it the Revolutionary struggle would have 



IUISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



31 



proved a complete failure. Had not the stern uncompromising pa- 
triots of 177(5 possessed that self-reliance which ever characterizes 
the enlightened Protestant, who is free from the fetters of priest- 
craft, they would no doubt have perished when they made their 
noble efforts to deliver their native land from the despotism of a 
foreign cabinet, when it invaded their civil and political rights, by 
imposing taxation without representation. From Grimke, a dis- 
tinguished American orator, I take the following extract with re- 
gard to this subject : 

"The prime of life came, and the principles of the Reforma- 
tion taught them that Independence was a right and a duty when 
civil and political liberty was invaded. The gordian knot of col- 
onial obedience was severed— a fierce struggle for the mastery 
ensued, and if pleased the Almighty that the victory should be 
ours. That victory was a consequence, however remote— a tri- 
umph, however unlooked for, of the Reformation. 

"The spirit of inquiry, first principles, thinking, reasoning, 
were the very essence, the genius of the Reformation in the age of 
Luther. The same were the essence of the Revolution under 
Washington. The Protestant nations have surpassed all the rest 
of the European family in the depth and comprehensiveness, in the 
sublimity and beauty, in the richness and variety of their litera- 
ture and science. Britain, the guardian angel of the liberty of 
Europe, the vanguard of civilization and freedom in the old 
world. 

' She in the soul of man her better wealth— 
The richest, nature's noblest produce, she 
The immortal mind in perfect height and strength 
Bears with a prodigal opulence.' 
« And we, the only offspring nation ever bore, worthy of 
such ancestry; we must not- we cannot, we shall not rest 
satisfied with inferiority to English fame, in science and literature. 
The spirit of inquiry— first principles, thought and reasoning; 
these are the causes which, under circumstances, singularly felici- 
tous, have made her in power and glory, in wisdom and virtue, in 
wealth, happiness, freedom and knowledge, the greatest of Euro- 



32 IRIKEI PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

pean State3, whether ancient or modern. And the same causes 
shall enable us still more fortunate in situation at our appointed 
day of meridian excellence, to ascend a loftier height of power 
and glory — of wisdom and virtue — of wealth, happiness, freedom 
and knowledge, than England has ever attained. She has accom- 
plished all that an European people, subjects of a limited monar- 
chy can attain, under the transforming regenerating influence of 
the Reformation. She is the Rome of the modern world, but has 
far excelled the imperial republic of antiquity. We shall accom- 
plish still more in effecting all that an American people, citizens 
of a confederacy of republics can perform, under the combined in- 
fluence of the Reformation and of our Revolution. We shall be the 
Greece of the modern world, unrivalled by the literature of three 
thousand years. All, indeed, that the system of the Reformers 
can bring to pass, our country, the holy land of religious liberty 
— the only promised land of political freedom, shall assuredly ac- 
complish. Then shall our country be emphatically, pre-eminent- 
ly, the empire of mind, the republic of letters." 

Such are, I consider, the sentiments of all true Americans, both 
with regard to their native country, and of Old England, the fath- 
erland of the Pilgrim Fathers of New England. 

Since the arrival and departure of Bedini, the papists under 
clerical directions, have been making strenuous efforts to destroy 
the liberties of this (in most cases,) their adopted country, by 
having nearly all their " churches" or mass houses armed, to be 
in readiness to enact, if possible, a second St. Bartholomew's day, 
when the bell of St. Germain shall begin to toll the well- 
known preconcerted signal, as was the case on the eve of that 
fatal day which proved so fully the real nature of popery. 
When the Pope heard of it having occurred, he caused a solemn 
Te Deum to be sung, and medals struck off in honor of so glorious 
an event. The affair was conducted with the greatest secrecy 
until it had actually taken place, for on the eve of that day there 
was 



IRISFI PROTESTANT LETTERS. 33 



" Joy in the palaces— joy in the streets ! 
Joyful the papist, the Huguenot greets." 

But in the morning the treacherous smile of popery had dis- 
appeared, and there was 

« Death in the palaces— death in the streets, 
No sparing nor mercy, the Huguenot meets." 
But be it known to all and singular, that such practices shall 
not be so easily carried out in this country as some papists may 
imagine, for there stands in these United States and Canada, a 
body of men firmly united in one vast phalanx, and fully prepared 
for the emergencies of any case that may occur. They are de- 
scended from the men who defended their rights victoriously in 
Piedmont, Leyden, Rochelle, Marston Moor, and Naseby, Drum- 
clog, the Boyne, and Bunker's Hill. They are now on this North 
American continent-in the "land of the free, and the home of the 
brave," an invincible quadruple alliance of the old Waldense 
Covenanter, Puritan and Huguenot, ready to stand sublime, mak- 
ing tyrants crouch before them, whether foreign or domestic, 
spiritual or temporal. 

As a matter of sound policy, it is incumbent on all who value 
liberty, whether civil or religious, to keep a constant watch on the 
movements of popery, that withering curse of nations, and hate- 
ful cause, whose blighting influence has laid low the glory of 
many a lofty State and flourishing Empire, which has extinguished 
pride and manly hor*>r and patriotism, stealing like a bitter 
draught the intellect and the heart, lulling the mind into a death 
stupor; verily the sleep of Circe, which has enervated the vigor 
of Republics, the fortitude and magnificence of Monarchies, cru~ 
bling at once into ruin the traditionary splendors and histc 
glory of Spain, Portugal, the old German Empire, of Genoa, V 
ice and Florence, where amid the licentiousness, the purple cr 
inality, and infernal orgies of the Borgias, despite the fulmina- 
tions and anathemas, hurled by the obscene and lustful pontiff, 
known in history as Alexander VI, the voice of the heroic martyr, 
Savonarola, the Luther of the South, warned the youth of Italy 
from following the tenets of papal doctrine. 



crum- 
rio 
en- 
crim- 



34 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

" Lasciate ogni speranze voi chi entrate" — Dante. 
Where is now the once noble blood of Castile and Arragon 1 
Echo answers where! But the voice of history saith that it has 
disappeared amid the smoke of the " Auto da Fe's" of desolated 
Spain and been destroyed beneath the iron wheel of the Inquisi- 
tion Juggernaut, even by that system which has degraded the fair 
face of many an ancient and noble land on the continent and 
islands of Europe and wherever else it may have been permitted 
to exist. 



Letter V. 

Patriotism, of Protestant Foreigners — Sketches of Presbyterian and 
Episcopalian reminiscences. 
There is a certain principle implanted in the human soul by 
which we become attached to the land that gave us birth, and the 
individual who possesses not this feeling, is unworthy to be called 
a man. In the language of Sir Walter Scott : 

" Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 

Who, never to himself hath said ; 
This is my own — my native land, 

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned 

As home his footsteps he hath turned, 
From wandering on a foreign strand." 

On these grounds precisely, I uphold the native American 
movement, inasmuch that I consider it to be An obedience with 
the noblest instincts of our nature. As a foreigner, I have no 
right to claim from the citizens of this country, privileges that I 
should feel bound to deny them in my own, on account of their 
foreign birth. 

In the case of Protestant foreigners who arrive here, they 
are from the very nature of their religious belief, most friendly 
to the constitutional freedom so fully developed in this country ; 
but in the meanwhile you must not expect, that even the mighty 
billows of the broad and deep Atlantic can wash out the memory 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 35 

of early associations; for even in death they return with all that 
vividness by which they were distinguished in the light of former 
days. Lord Byron in the dying Gladiator, has the following: 

" He heard it, but he heeded not — his eyes 

Were with his heart, and that was far away ; 
He reck'd not of the life he lost or prize, 

But where his rude hut by the Danube lay ; 
There were his young barbarians all at play — 

There was their Dacian mother ! — he their sire, 
Butchered to make a Eoman holiday — 

All this rushed with his blood." 

We are informed that when the 42nd Regt. Scottish High- 
landers were at Buenos Ayres, in British service, one of them, 
had made up his mind to remain in that place on account of the 
great fertility of the soil, when one of his companions hearing of 
it came with the bagpipes, and without saying anything, sat down 
beside him, and played " Lochaber nae mair," on which he instant- 
ly started to his feet, exclaiming : 

"What! Lochaber nae mair! I maun gang back," and back he 
went to the sterile hills of Padenook there to mingle with the 
dust of his ancestors. It is also related that when the clan of Me 
Donald came to Glengary in Canada, those hardy weather beaten 
men wept for the first time, when they found that the mountains 
of Canada refused to grow their native heather which they h&& 
brought with them for that purpose. The Scottish Highlander 
does not forget hi3 " bonnie Highland heither," and the old Ingle- 
side; nor does the Lowlander forget the land of the " thistle and 
bonnie blue bell" and those deeper religious associations that are 
so intimately connected with the 

" Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 
Land of the mountain and the flood, 
Land of my sires !" — 

The Scottish and Irish Covenanters remember well the time 
when perhaps they walked with a much-loved father, mother, 
grandfather, or other friend to the House of Prayer, some old 
white Meeting House with its neat enclosure and rustic pathway, 
locally termed 7omn, leadiug from the highway in the rural dis- 



dfr IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

tricts of Antrim, Down, or Derry — or in the glens and valleys of 
Scotland, when they could say in the words of the Psalmist ; 

" I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the 
House of Lord. Our feet shall stand within thy gates Jerusa- 
lem." 

They do not forget that when leaving home, an aged father, 
or grandfather, brought forth from its accustomed place, the old 
and well-used family Bible, and read therefrom for the last time 
one of those living lessons of faith and practice that should guide 
the wandering footsteps of his children in foreign lands, when far 
away from the homes of their brethren, and the graves of their 
fathers — and when perhaps all joined in singing a part of the nine- 
tieth Psalm, Scottish version, to the " Martyrs" tune, and also the 
second Scripture Paraphrase in the same book ; after which they 
were commended to the care of Him who worketh all things after 
ihe counsel of His own will, and in conclusion, while the tear of 
parental solicitude dimmed the eyes of their aged parent, they re- 
ceived the paternal benediction in the name of the God of Abra- 
ham, of Isaac, of Jacob, and of their Covenanted fathers. They 
were then given with the well-known autograph on the title page, 
Acopy of the Holy Scriptures having the Scottish Psalms attached; 
and perhaps an edition of that well-known book, the Scots' Wor- 
thies by Howie of Lochgoin, with the positive injunction never to 
forget the God of their fathers, in that land to which they were 
going, for in the language of the Psalmist. — 

" His testimony and his law, 

In Israel he did place, 
And charged our fathers it to show 

To their succeeding race ; 

That so the race which was to come 

Might well them learn and know, 
And sons unborn who should arise 

Might to their sons them show." 

Even in this land they still retain those religious usages that 
were common among their pious forefathers in the days that tried 
men's souls, and wherever twenty of them can conveniently as- 
semble, there will be found either a Scotch or Reformed Presby- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. SI 

terian Church with the old version of the Psalms of Dtvid, th« 
Covenant, and Scotland. 

The honest Saxon Churchman, and the uncompjo.rrsing Scotch- 
Irish Presbyterian of the Lagan valley, remember equally with 
fond regret, the days of other years that never shall return. The 
former, as he attended with his family, the old Parish Church, with 
its ivy-clad walls and solemn Sabbath bell. Its row of ancient 
and stately trees, with the neat enclosure surrounding the old 
grave-yard, where lies in honorable repose the ashes of his fathers 
from before the Commonwealth. Its neatly graded avenue, with 
a row of trees on either side, leading through the monuments of 
mortality to the venerable building ; and where from the old 
church-yard gate, while attending the burial of his relatives and 
friends, he has so often met the Minister of religion in his white 
surplice, reciting in a solemn manner the beautiful service ap- 
pointed by the Episcopal church for the burial of the dead, com- 
mencing with the words of Christ, " I am the resurrection and the 
life, whosoever believeth in me though he were dead yet shall he 
live." and then following the prophetic exclamation of Job, " I 
know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand on the 
earth at the latter day," and when the interment has been finished, 
that scriptural and Calvinistic form of sound words is appropri- 
ately brought to a close with the Apostolic benediction. 



Letter VI. 

The Protestants of Ireland and their -position in 1848 — Reminis- 
cences of the Irish Orangemen, with observations on the same. 
In Ulster I well recollect that high-souled enthusiasm which 
animated the hearts of her sons and daughters on the anni- 
versary of that bright auspicious day which celebrated the triumph 
of our fathers over popish despotism as the ruling power of the 
land. 



38 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

On the 12th of July, 1848, there arose with the rising of the 
sun until the setting of the same, one stern determined voice in 
Ulster, from the routes and glens of Antrim to the rock bound 
coasts of Donegal, and from the smiling valleys and mountain 
passes of Derry to the border mountain range of Mou me in Down, 
even to Dolly's Brae, that Ireland should be free from the Lun- 
dies and the Mitchels, and the mixed multitude of traitors and 
felons, who from lack of individual industry, are ever found war- 
ring against the existing institutions of any free country, either on 
their own personal accounts or as agents of some foreign or des- 
potic influence. The voice of Ulster went up before high heaven 
that popery should never again trample on the Protestant faith in 
Ireland, for the Saxon sword and Scottish claymore were ready in 
in the " red right hand of Ulster" to avenge (if attacked) the 
deeds of other days. Yea, by the ashes of Smithfield under Mary 
the bloody, and the crimson heather of Scotland, under Charles the 
faithless, and the deserted homes of France under Louis the un- 
principled, and also by the drowned victims of Portadown Bridge, 
in the county of Armagh, In 1641, and by the burned victims of 
Scullabogue Barn, in the County of Wexford in 1798, and by the 
blood of our martyred forefathers who fell in mortal fight at Der- 
ry, at Aughrim, at Enniskillen and the Boyne, whilst nobly de- 
fending their rights and our lives to live as freemen, and not as 
slaves bound beneath the iron hoof of popery when it sought to 
trample under foot their dearest liberties, and through them that 
of their descendants, but no, the wily foe was baffled, for after the 
great Irish Massacre of 1641, when popery thought to have mur- 
dered the whole Protestant race in Ireland by organized gangs of 
midnight assassins, such enormities were then committed as would 
have even put the red Indian to the blush. There has been a full ac- 
count of that infernal transaction written by Sir John Temple, one 
of the lords justices of Ireland about that time, Reid's history of 
the Presbyterian church in Ireland, and also by many other writers 
whose veracity no one can impeach. 

The Irish Orangeman remembers well the green glens of An- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 6V 

trim and Tyrone, with the hills, valleys, and towns of Ulster, 
where in company with his brethren he has so often unfurled the 
bright banner of his fathers, the Orange and Scottish true Blue, 
accompanied by the deep rolling of the double drum and the 
shrill whistle of the fife, to the " Protestant Boys" and the " Boyne 
Water," with other tunes equally commemorative of the heroism 
displayed by their gallant ancestry in days of other years, when 
they fought as only free men dare to fight, and died as only free- 
men die. The memories of the glorious dead, crowd upon 
us, and the "No Surrender" de6ance of Derry's matchless 
apprentice boys, who like "guardian angels their vigils 
keep" on their time-honored ramparts. The historian's page 
will bring their memories to view as monuments of en- 
during greatness, when the sons of unlawful rebellion will 
scarcely be discerned iu dim perspective. Israel's God who part- 
ed the crimson flood for his chosen, remembered with the men of 
Derry his covenant of mercy, and when Popery attempted to se- 
duce their allegiance from the Protestant faith, he inspired them to 
cry out " No Surrender." Whilst the names of many of the 
young men of the present day deserve no more lasting memorial 
than to be written on the sands of the beach, which the first wave 
will efface, Derry's sons should be engraven on the tablets of the 
heart, there to remain in everlasting remembrance. Famine and 
disease, as the angel of death, swept with her dark wings that de- 
voted city — the grandfather, the mother, and the babe, all died 
together; but the smile of joy shone upon the cheek of death, for 
they believed that with our hearts' best blood we would guard 
the rights for which they died. Imagine the sainted Walker as- 
cending the pulpit in warrior costume, preaching the living lessons 
of faith, hope, and repentance, while the crimson flag of distress 
floats on the air, and the beacon fire which tells of murder, blazes 
by night, the funereal knell of thousands to their graves beneath, 
yet still surrender was never breathed. Can those beatified spir- 
its look down from their bright abodes and see the truckling and 
time-serving of many in the present generation ? If so, do they 



40 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTER*. 

not, as with cloven tongues of fire, to each heart exclaim, " base 
recreant descendants,we bequeathed you privileges at the sacrifice 
of our lives, and you have sold them for a mess of Popish pottage. 
Was it for you to endow Jesuit colleges we famished ? "Was it 
for the exclusion of the Bible and a Popish national education we 
bled ? Was it for the propagation of the idolatry we died ? 
No, verily not. 

The Irish Orangeman reflects with due ancestral pride on 
the halo which surrounds Aughrim's lofty hills,the Boyne's silvery 
wave, Derry's rampart walls, and Ennisldllen's chivalry, and looks 
forward with pleasure to the time which the Lord hath appointed, 
when the abominations of Popery shall disappear from the earth 
before; an open Bible, as the clouds of night before the rising sun. 
Then shall the hymning spheres and morning stars usher in a flood 
of Protestant glory, before which will pale the splendor of Ma- 
rathon, and the halo of ThermopylaB. 

That place is well remembered where Churchman and Cove- 
nanter met, to renew their solemn vows of eternal friendship, in 
which thsy were pledged to defend each other to the last extrem- 
ity against their common enemy, whose ribbon oath, by priestly 
orders, had bound, at any favorable opportunity, to " walk knee 
deep in Protestant blood." I may here mention to American 
Protestants, that Irish Papists consider themselves as much bound 
to obey their Jesuit leaders here as they were beyond the sea, 
and that they are ever ready, on any occasion, to give a practical 
proof of their sincerity to the cause, which binds them to the ex- 
tirpation of hesesy ; the end always justifying the means when 
the interests of the Church are concerned. See Cardinal Bellar- 
mine and other Popish Doctors, whose metaphysical abstractions 
in certain points, far eclipse those of Messrs. Philosopher Greeley 
& Co., the great Pioneers in the pursuit of life, liberty, and hap- 
piness. These gentlemen, being pronounced by competent judges 
in that line, as ahead of all competition ; having arrived at such 
an altitude in the moral heavens, they now look down with per- 
fect astonishment, and innocently inquire why contending elements 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 41 

should ever meet so as to disturb the serenity of their position 
while theorizing on some undiscovered ism. 



Letter VII. 

The Irish Massacre of 1641, with a few details of the same, from 
the affidavits that have been preserved in the Library of Trinity 
College Dublin— The Battle of the jBoyne, 1G90— Historical 
illustrations of the practical operations of Popery. 

From McCrie's sketches of Church History, I take the follow- 
ing extract, relating to the Irish Massacre of 1641: 

*' Religious rancor, goaded by superstition, lent its energies 
to this design. The ignorant natives schooled by their priests 
into the belief that they would merit heaven by putting the here- 
tics to death, received the sacrament before commencing the work 
of carnage, and swore they would not leave a Protestant alive in 
the kingdom. The Protestants of Ulster were attacked with a 
savage ferocity unparalleled in the annals of the world. No mercy 
was shown to sex, rank, age or infancy. The mother was reserved 
only to see her helpless children butchered befere her eyes, and 
then to suffer the same fate. Some wretches were prevailed on 
by promise of life to become executioners of their dearest relatives, 
and after having incurred this tremendous guilt were executed in 
their turn. Others, after being tempted by promise of life to 
disown their faith, and conform to the popish rites, were coolly 
told that lest they should relapse, it would be charity to send 
them immediately to heaven, and were forthwith put to death. 
In these tragicial scenes, the women, under the influence of" re- 
ligious" frenzy were as active as the men,and mere children, hard- 
ly able to wield the knife, were urged by their parents to stain 
their little hands in blood. But time would fail us to recount the 
cruelties and indignities committed on the unhappy Protestants, 
" The bare mention of these execrable atrocities is enough to 



ft2 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

make the ears tingle. Not to speak of the multitudes who perish- 
ed in the field of battle, and in dungeons, thousands were driven 
5isto the water like so many beasts, and knocked on the head, 
or shot, if they attempted to swim for their lives. Others were 
dragged through the water with ropes about their necks. Others 
were buried alive. Others were hung up by the arms, and gra- 
dually slashed to death, to see how many blows an Englishman 
"•would endure before he died. Women were ripped up, and their 
x&ildren were thrown to the swine to be devoured before their 
ijes, or being taken by the heels had their brains dashed out 
against a tree, while others were found in the fields, sucking 
the breasts of their murdered mothers, and without mercy, 
were buried alive. Multitudes were enclosed in houses, which 
being set on fire, were miserably consumed in the flames, or 
<refc to pieces in attempting to escape. These fearful butcher- 
w*, (the half of which has not been told) were accompanied with 
ihe most hellish blasphemies and imprecations on the part of the 
isyarderers, and the most heart-rending shrieks, and lamentations 
from the terrified victims, presents a scene unparalleled in British 
Msiory, and equal only in horror to the massacre of St. Bartholo- 
mew, in France.''' 

There is not space enough to enumerate the unheard of cru- 
elties that have been practiced on the Irish Protestants, since the 
.Information, by the blood-thirsty agents of Popery. The fiendish 
jrselties that have been committed full over thirty-two folio vol- 
asses in the Library of Trinity College, where the affidavits con- 
H'&TBing them have been preserved. From October 23rd, 104 1, to 
September 15, 1643 (not two full years) above 300,000 Protes- 
tants were massacred or expelled from Ireland by the Papists ! 
All Ireland, north, south, east and west, was simultaneously lighted 
witR fires. On May 29th 1641 more than 40,000 perished, and 
■a plenary indulgence was granted to the murderers by Pope Ur- 
ban VIII ! 

The Ulster Plantation became a field of blood ; the very ri- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTKR8. 4& 

1,000 Protestants were, hurled into the river Bann, and those who 
swam to the opposite shore were shot from the banks. At Ar- 
magh 4,000 were thus drowned. In Cavan twelve miles of the 
high road were crimsoned like a butcher's block. Torture in all 
its ingenuity succeeded the outbreak. Popish children were 
taught to hack the quivering little limbs of Protestant children ! 
Whole families were buried alive, and the cry of a young boy 
'' Mama ! Mama !" from his living grave was greeted with a yell 
of laughter, till the heaped up earth stifled his voice ! The shrieks 
of the burned were music in the ears of these unhuman mur 
derers. 

The Protestants everywhere mingled with the Papists on the 
most friendly terms, and, without any real, or assumed superiority ; 
the consequence was, that they were so completely surprised and 
terrified by the suddeness of the outbreak, that they were inca 
pable of making any combined efforts for their mutual defence. 
Those who heard of the commotion in their neighborhood remain- 
ed at home to protect their families and property, and thus fell 
one by one, an easy prey to the papists 

Mr. Rowley Lascelles, in his valuable official Reports. "Li- 
ber Munerum Publicorum Hiberme" printed 1826, records the fol- 
lowing useful and authentic facts, which will amply explain why 
the penal laws were subsequently rigorously enacted against the 
Papists — not because they were of a different form of religion, but 
because no man's life wassafefrom their conspiracies and horrible 
plots : — " Upon the repulse of Sir Phelim O'Neill from the castle 
of Augher, he ordered all the British Protestants in three adjacent 
parishes to be put to the sword. Upon his defeat at Lisburn, Lord 
Caulfield, O'Neill's former host, and fifty other prisoners, were 
murdered. Others of the prisoners, on pretence of being for- 
warded to the nearest British Settlement, were goaded forward 
like beasts of burden by their guards; some were enclosed in a 
house or castle to which fire was set, with a savage indifference to 
their cries and a fiendish like triumph over their expiring agonies, 
the Priests everywhere encouraging these deeds by (heir presence." 



44 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

Such is the dreadful but true statement madeby the late Mr. 
Rowley Lascelles, who was appointed some years since to exam- 
ine the Irish State Records and Rolls. 

It would be painful to narrate the demoniac deeds of this un- 
provoked rebellion, but in order that the origin of the penal laws 
may be fully understood, the following extract from the " Annals 
of Ireland " with the official evidence is given : 

" By Sir Phelim O'Neill's, express order Lieut. James Max- 
well, brother to Dr. Robert Maxwell, afterwards Bishop of Kil- 
more, was dragged out of his bed in the height of a burning fe- 
ver, driven two miles, and then murdered ; his wife great with 
child, stripped stark naked and drowned in the Blackwater, the 
child half born. Mr. Starkey, aged an hundred years, was, with 
his two daughters stripped naked, the daughters forced to support 
and lead their father and having gone three quarters of a mile they 
were all then drowned in a turf pit" (Dr. Maxwell's Examination 
p. 9. and Examination of Capt. John Perkins of the Co. Tyrone, 
pp. 5. 7) 

" Five hundred Protestants were murdered at Armagh, be- 
sides forty-eight families in the parish of Killiman" (Cajrt. Per- 
kiris Examination p. 6. and Anthony Straffords Examination at 
Armagh p. 2.) 

" Three hundred Protestants were stripped naked and put 
into the church of Loughgall, whereof about an hundred were 
murdered in the church, amongst whom was John Gregg, who was 
quartered, and his quarters thrown in the face of his father Rich- 
ard Gregg. The said Richard Gregg was then murdered, having 
received seventeen or eighteen wounds; his body was then quar- 
tered in presence of his wife, who made this affidavit before the 
Commissioners appointed for the purpose of ascertaining the cru- 
elties practiced by the rebels " (See Borlase Appendix, p. 111.) 

" Fifteen hundred Protestants were murdered in three parish- 
es in the Co. Armagh" (James Shaw's Examination, p. 1) 

"Two and twenty Protestants were put into a thatched 
house in the parish of Kilmoreand then burned alive" (Examina- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 45 

tion of Smith, Clerk, Fillis, Stanhaw, Tullerton, Machet,of the Co, 
Armagh) 

" The Rev. Mr. Robinson, his wife and three children were 
drowned. Mr. William Blundell was drawn by the neck in a 
rope up and down the Black water, at Charlemont, to make him 
confess his money, and in three weeks after, he, with his wife and 
seven children were drowned. 

'' Forty four other persons were murdered at several times 
in the same place, where, among other horrible acts a woman was 
compelled to hang her own husband {Examination of Edward 
Sallenstal, George Littlefield, and Margaret Bromley of Armagh. 
— See Borlase's Appendix p 110. 

" One hundred and eighty Protestants were drowned at the 
bridge of Callon, and one hundred more in a Lough near Bally - 
macilmorrough." {Examination of Capt. Anthony Strafford, at 
Armagh, p. 2. 

" Fifty Protestants were murdered at Blackwater church. 
The wife ot Arnold Taylor, great with child, had her belly ripped 
up, and was then drowned — Thomas Mason was burned alive ; — 
the brains of three Protestants were knocked out with a hatchet 
in the church of Benburb ; — eight women were drowned in the 
river near the same church — Mrs. Rowland and Mrs. Franklin 
(both great with child) were murdered with six of their children 
{Examinations of Tillis, Stanhaw, Frankland, Smith, Clerk, Price. 
Tullerton, Harcourt and Par A) of the Co. Armagh.) 

" In the Co. of Tyrone, the Rev. John Mather, and the Rev. 
Mr. Blythe, though they had Sir Phelim O'Neill's protection, were 
murdered with sixty Protestant families of the town of Dun- 
gannon" {Examinations of John Perkins Esq. of the Co. Tyrone 
and Capt. Anthony Strafford of the Co. Armagh.) 

"• Between Charlemont and Dungannon about 400 were mur- 
dered. &c. &c. 

"In this dreadful persecution those who through fear, 
though few in number, had conformed to Popery did not es- 
cape the fury of the rebels — but they were the last that were cut 



40 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

off. The rebels, about this time, lest they should be charged with 
more murders than they committed, commanded their Priests to 
bring in a true account of them — from which it appeared, that 
from the 23rd of October 1641, to the month of March 1643, one 
hundred and fifty -four thousand Protestants were murdered (Dr. 
Maxwells Examination p 7) 

On the confession of the perpetrators ONE HUNDRED 
AND FIFTY FOUR THOUSAND WERE MURDERED !! ! 
Pages — volumes, might be filled with these dreadful deeds, which 
were perpetrated under the sacred name of religion, which was 
used as a means of hardening the heart to the cries of suffering 
humanity. 

Hume in the sixth volume of his History, page 410 to 430, 
styles this insurrection as a rebellion without provocation, to be 
held in perpetual detestation and abhorence. The " heretics," as 
abhorred of God, were marked out by the priests for slaughter; 
and, of all actions to rid the world of these declared enemies to 
Romish faith and piety it was represented as the most meritorious 
deed ; and while the victims were in the agonies of death, the 
shouts and imprecations of their demoniac assassins rung in their 
ears, that their present sufferings were but the commencement of 
eternal torments. 

The greater part of Ireland was at the mercy of the Papists 
in 1642 ; the life and property of no Protestant was safe and the 
Bible was everywhere burnt or destroyed in the most ignomini- 
ous manner. 

Well indeed has it been observed by Mosheim in his appen- 
dix to the Ecclesiastical History of the 18th Century, page 59, 
that the "maintenance of all liberty, civil and religious, depends on 
circumscribing Popery within proper bounds, since Popery is not 
a system of innocent speculative opinions, but a yoke of despot- 
ism, an enormous mixture of priestly and princely tyranny de- 
signed to enslave the consciences of mankind and destroy their 
most sacred and invaluable rights." 

Such is the Popish system fully carried out. Shortly after 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 47 

all this happened, the Lord remembered his people in mercy, by- 
sending his servant, Cromwell, with the sword of justice, to smite 
the murderer in his blood — even that man who made Inquisitors 
to tremble, and caused the name and flag of England to be re- 
spected by even her greatest and most powerful enemies. He 
came as a second Joshua, to go in and possess the land for the 
wickedness of them that dwelt therein, and that they of the 
Protestant faith might dwell therein with safety. But still, the 
Canaanite dwelt in the land, and after thirty years of comparative 
peace, they rebelled again when Cromwell was no more. 

Then there rose a noble scion of the House of Orange like a 
second royal David, whom worthy Britons called from his native 
land and elected to be their king. In his days did the righteous 
flourish, for he was a terror to evil doers and a praise to them that 
do well. He trampled the dragon and chained the tiger of po- 
pish despotism in Great Britain. He came to Ireland, and with 
him the gallant Hollanders and the noble but persecuted Hugue- 
nots, under their valiant leaders, Schomberg, de Ginckel and 
Caillemote ; to these were added the hardy Ulster, Scots and En- 
glish settlers who came by the memories of their fathers' blood. 
With thirty thousand in all of such Protestant heroes,William in 
person led his men to the decisive battle of the Boyne, where 
with every disadvantage, he crossed the river and defeated an ene- 
my of sixty thousand on the opposite banks, in the heart of a popish 
country which had risen up to sustain its purjured king. There 
are many incidents connected with that battle,which are as house- 
hold words in the homesteads of Ulster, and of the Protestants of 
Ireland. From Belsham's History of England, I take the follow- 
ing short extract relating to that engagement : " M. Caillemotte 
a French refugee officer of great merit received a mortal wound 
at the head of his Regiment, and was carried back to the English 
camp; meeting the Huguenots crossing the river he encouraged 
them by exclaiming : "A la gloire mes enfans — a la gloire." The 
Duke of Schomberg, (an aged man of over fourscore years, who 
had spent more than half a centnry in defence of Holland, his na- 



48 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

tive country, against papal intolerance), perceiving the French 
Protestants exposed, and in some disorder from the loss of their 
Commander, passed the river in haste without his armor, and with 
all the ardor of youth put himself at their head. But the bat- 
tle in this quarter being peculiarly hot an d bloody, the Marshall 
fell in a very short time. This celebrated personage was regarded 
as one of the first military characters of the age, and he possessed 
all the virtues and accomplishments of a hero. Walker, the 
clergyman who had rendered himself so famous by his defence of 
Derry, also lost his life in this action, gloriously combatting in 
the cause of his country. The courage, activity, and presence of 
mind of king William, himself, were extremely conspicuous du- 
ring the whole of this engagement, in the course of which he re- 
peatedly charged the enemy sword in hand. The Irish now quit- 
ed the field with precipitation. William, also recalling his troops 
from the pursuit, expressing himself averse to the unnecessary 
effusion of blood." Thus ended the famous battle of the 
Boyne on the 1st of July, (O. S.) 1G90, which is enshrined on the 
hearts of the Irish Protestants as one of the most noble deeds of 
their fathers in days of auld lang syne. 

Now, one word in conclusion. Can we, either as Irish or 
American Protestants, remain unmoved, when we witness our 
forefathers' sufferings, in order to transmit to us the Bible and 
Protestant Freedom. 2 Let us look at Popery as we find her em. 
blazoned on the page of History in characters of blood, and letters 
of fire. About the year 1160, there were murdered a million of 
the Waldenses by papists ; in the year 1567 and shortly after- 
wards, from five to six hundred thousand Protestants had to fly 
from their homes in the Netherland, to escape the tyranny of 
popery, eighteen thousand of whom fell by the hands of the com- 
mon executioner, besides the sixty thousand men of Breziers all 
under the Duke of Alva as Deputy of Spain; in 1572 was the 
great massacre of St. Bartholomew in France, by which over a 
million perished in a very short time. In 1641 was the great 
!risli Protestant massacre of two hundred thousand. With these 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 49 

facts staring us in the face, let us be prepared to meet the com- 
mon enemy, whose thirst for blood is merely delayed from mo- 
tives of expediency. See " Shepherd of the Valley" and other 
such pious guardians of the flock. Are we not all the children of 
the Glorious Reformation ? Hath not one God created us, and 
wherefore should we deal treachorously, even any of us, by for- 
saking the Covenant which the Lord made with our fathers, when 
he delivered them from the Egyptian bondage-house of popish 
tyranny? As sons of Luther, Calvin, Knox, Cranmer, Whitfield 
or Wesley, let us be up and doing, for the day is far spent and the 
night is at hand. 

" The night is gathering gloomily and the day is closing fast 
The tempest flaps his raven wings in loud and angry blast." 

Let our mottoes be : "E. pluribus unum," and "Excelsior," 
to which may be added the good old Irish Protestant watchword : 
" No Surrender ; " with these three, victory is certain. 



Letter VIII. 

The Irish Rebellions and Confiscations of Desmond in 1580, and 
Tyrone in 1G41, with some notices of the " Patriots " concerned 
therein, and the motives by which they were actuated. ■ 

It has ever been the practice of popery to promote civil dis- 
cord and dissension in all countries where Protestant influence has 
predominated. In Ireland the real opposition to England never 
began until after the Protestant Reformation had commenced. 
During the reign of Queen Elizabeth the O'Neill's were the prin- 
ciple agents used in carrying on the religious wars under the spec- 
ial guidance of Romish Priests and Jesuits. It was not that they 
hated England because she was a foreign power, but from the fact 
of her being the bulwark of Protestantism. If she had remained 
a popish country, and continued as degraded as they, through the 



50 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

same influence had become, no true Irish Papist would ever have 
objected to the " foreign yoke " which had been imposed upon 
the country when Pope Adrian IV., for the suppression of the an- 
cient Irish church aud nation, handed over both to the " lordship " 
of popish England. 

There have been about fifty attempts at rebellion ; the great- 
er part of which are directly traceable to Romish intrigue. There 
is a fact worthy of notice that on all these occasions a general mass- 
acre of the Protestant inhabitants, especially of natives, has been 
the principal object, while English papists have never been touched, 
If it had been a pure question of nationality, why acknowledge 
the sovereignty of the Prince of Rome, and deny that of Eng- 
land 1 But the fact has always been, and still is, that no papist 
ever was or can be a true Irishman, a true Englishman, a true 
Frenchman, a true Italian or a true American. All papists, out- 
side the " States of the Church," are mere nondescripts, having 
neither God or country. They have, however, a Goddess with 
some three thousand inferior deities ; the former they address 
" Hail Mary Mother of God and Queen of Heaven, pray for us." 
The inferior deities, or demi-Gods, are made up of such characters 
as Sts. Thomas Aquinas, Thomas a'Becket. Francis Zavier, Igna- 
tius Loyola, Alphonsus Liguori, Dennis, Dunstan Bernard, &c. 

It may be necessary here to illustrate the effect of the Ro 
mish intrigues by adverting to some of the rebellions, whose his- 
tories prove that these insurrections did not arise from what has 
been unjustly called " Protestant bigotry," and at the same time 
demonstrate that the confiscations which took place were the in- 
evitable result of treason on the broadest and most dangerous 
scale. Whenever these confiscations are alluded to by the vitriolic 
patriots of the present day, their cause is studiously concealed, 
the direful civil wars and desolations, kept up by Romish emissa- 
aries, such as Papal Nuncios, Vicars Apostolic, Jesuit Propagan- 
dists, Mendicant Friars, &c. It is never even hinted that life as 
well as property was forfeited for unprovoked and bloody rebell- 
ions, always aided by foreign invasion*. 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 51 

About the year J 580, Stukely, an adventurer of English 
birth, went from Ireland to Rome, at the instance of Pope Greg- 
ory XIII., to have a son of the Pope,Giacomo Buoncompagno made 
king of Ireland. The Pope created Stukely, Marquis of Lein- 
ster, Earl of Wexford, and Carlow, and Baron of Ross. One 
thousand Italian robbers were pardoned by the Pope on consider- 
ation of their aiding Stukely 's design. Philip of Spain agreed 
to pay this banditti, not being then aware that the Pope's son 
was his rival for the sovereignty of Ireland. Stukely was killed 
in Africa along with Don Sebastian, whom he had accompanied 
on an expedition, on the promise of subsequent aid and from Por- 
tugal, in Ireland. 

Fitzmaurice (Geraldine) in conjunction with Saunders, an Eng- 
lish Ecclesiastic, and Allen an Irish priest, prevailed on the Pope 
to organize another invasion of Ireland. A bull was drawn up, 
and addressed to all the prelates and princes exhorting them to 
assist Fitzmaurice ; a banner was solemnly consecrated ; Saun- 
ders was invested with the dignity of Legate; a holy benediction 
ivas pronounced, and with supplies of money the " Champions of 
Vie faith, in defence of the holy Church " were sent to Philip, who 
*as to provide the necessary armament. After landing in Kerry 
with eighty Spaniards, and some English and Irish fugitives, they 
were joined by the Earl of Desmond, after carrying on a most har- 
rassing warfare on one occasion, surprising and destroying 200 
Protestant soldiers. The Papal banner was hoisted ; 700 Span- 
iards and Italians arrived as a reinforcement, with arms and 
ammunition for 5000 men, and with a considerable sum of 
money. The Pajnil troops defeated the Deputy, Lord 
Grey at Glendalough ; and it was not until a considerable 
naval and military armament was sent from England, that this Po- 
pish invasion was subdued. Desmond, the chief of the insurrec- 
tion, was killed in a hut, to which he had fled as a fugitive, by one 
Kelly, his head was brought to the Earl of Ormond, who trans- 
mitted it to England, where it was impaled on London Bridge, 



52 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

The lands forfeited by Desmond's rebellion for the Pope, are 
said to have amounted to 574,528 acres. 

The rebellion of Tirowen, commonly called Hugh, Earl of 
Tyrone, form a prominent feature in the history of Ireland, like 
all other Irish insurrections since the Reformation, their avowed- 
ly chief object was the supremacy of the Prince-Bishop of Borne 
in Ireland, and the dominance of the Romish religion. O'Neill 
was restored to favor five times by his acknowledged sovereign, 
against whom he had rebelled, and Elizabeth not only received 
him with distinction at her court, and created him Earl of Tyrone, 
but so pressed her Deputies te be lenient towards him, that he 
•was enabled to prosecute his great rebellion with almost final suc- 
cess. Yet, even after that terrible contest, which cost the Gov- 
ernment over £ 200,000. James I., restored him to his lands 
and honors ; after that he rebelled again, and fearing, very prop- 
erly, that he would not receive forgiveness any more, he fled to 
Eome or Spain, and there died when his lands reverted to the 
crown. 

Did this conduct look like tyranny on the part of the Brit- 
ish Government 1 Let it be remembered that the rebellions of 
Tyrone, as well as subsequent insurrections, had not their origin 
in resistance to tyranny, but in a vehement desire to expel the 
followers of Martin Luther from Ireland. Tyrone in one of his 
manifestoes, where he says, " Let us all join together to deliver 
the countrie from the infection of heresy, and for the planting oj 
the Roman Catholic religion : if I had gotten to be King of Ireland, 
I should not except the same without the extension of the Catho- 
lic religion." The rebellion of 1641 may be taken as a good ex- 
ample of how the country was to be " delivered from heresy," 
and the " planting of the Roman Catholic religion." Cromwell, 
on. its suppression, confiscated the lands of the rebels, and gave 
them to those who assisted in the suppression of the most san- 
guinary bigots that ever lived ; when the monarchy was restored, 
the crown resigned all claims to the forfeited lands. But on 
James the II., arrival in Dublin, he assembled a Popish parlia- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 53 

inent, the first act of which was to justify the rebellion, or rather 
the appalling massacre of the Protestants in 1041 (a massacre 
that has no parallel in the annals of Christian bigotry, but that 
of St. Bartholemew.) The Act of Settlement was repealed ; the 
estates of all persons in England, Scotland or Ireland, who would 
not acknowledge the regal authority of James, were confiscated, 
an act of attainder was passed by which 24G1 persons of rank (and 
both sexes ) were attainted by name : the property of absentees 
was seized, as was also, that ot Trinity College. Any person 
corresponding with another, who had not acknowledged the new 
Popish authorities, had his lands confiscated, to ascertain which 
all letters in the Post-Office were previously opened, and to such 
a height was the rigor against the Irish Protestants carried, that 
they were not allowed to meet in greater numbers than two at a 
time. In all the correspondence, of the rebel leaders, it was still 
insisted that the Roman Catholic religion should be the established, 
exclusive, national and only religion in Ireland- The war was not 
therefore merely against English rule, or for ambitious objects. 
It was a war of religion, and the effects of it amply illustrates the 
absolute necessity of the penal laws, which were only brought in- 
to effective operation when life and property were r.o logger se- 
cure for those who differed from the Romish faith. 

As a specimen of the pure patriotism entertained by the Irish 
" patriots," it may be stated that when they took several forts 
it was asserted that they were '' held for Christ and the king of 
Spain" the cant phrase of " Ireland for the Irish " meant nothing 
more than " Ireland for the Pope." 

The Romish Archbishop of Armagh, named Magauran, was 
one of the principle agents of the Pope for exciting the Irish pa- 
pists to massacre the Protestants. This warlike prelate w r as killed 
in Cunnaught, where he had gone to organize the forces of Tyrone : 
so also was a Romish Vicar Apostolic, named Mc.Egan, who is- 
sued excommunications against all who should give any quarter 
to Protestant prisoners. This member of the Church Militant 



54 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

was killed in battle while leading on a troop of cavalry with a 
sword in one hand and a breviary and beads in the other ! 

The Popes have granted three or four Bulls to the different 
parties that have been concerned in the several Irish Protestant 
massacres. These Bulls gave " plenary pardons, and remission 
for all their sins," to those who would follow the Papal army of 
Tyrone, who were described as " the assertors and champions of the 
Catholic faith" 

The real friends of Ireland have been Cromwell, and William 
of Orange, those great men saw at once through the folly of pa- 
tronizing a system which had no toleration for anything but it- 
self. 



Letter IX. 

The American Revolution, and the assistance rendered to it by the 
Irish Northmen or Protestant-Irish. 

We are often told that Catholic Ireland furnished the men of 
the Pennsylvania company of volunteers in '76. Now, such a state- 
ment is utterly at variance with recorded facts ; for though five- 
sixths of the men were Irish, they were from Protestant Ireland, 
being the Ulster Scots from Down and Antrim; a class pre-emi- 
nently noted for all that love of liberty which characterized their 
Scottish forefathers at Bannockburn and Drumclog, from the days 
of Bruce to Cameron, and their fathers at Deny, and the Boyne, 
and was exemplified by them in the ranks of the American Pa- 
triot Army of 1776. Those men were Irish by birth, and heriditary 
descent for more than four generations. They lived under the same 
government, laws, and local institutions as their fellow country- 
men ; yet between them there existed the greatest possible differ- 
ence. The Scotch Irish dwelt in a comparitively sterile region 
with few natural advantages ; yet, they were not inferior in skill, 
industry, intelligence and comfort with a due appreciation of re- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 55 

ligious and moral freedom, and the blessings of constitutional lib- 
erty to the people of any country. They combined in a great 
degree the prudential thrift and commercial activity of the Scotch ; 
the persevering industry and indomitable self reliance of the Eng- 
lish, with the buoyant feelings and generous impulses of Irishmen, 
The Royal Artillery, the finest military corps in the world b 
reason of its professional skill, excellent discipline, and high mar 
tial bearing, is composed exclusively of those men. Their stern 
love cf truth and probity is such that they are styled at home the 
" sturdy northerns." 

That same spirit is still retained by their descendants in all 
lands wherever their lot has been cast. They are devoutly at- 
tached to the Presbyterian faith of their fathers, and are always 
found among the warmest supporters of civil and religious liberty. 
Whilst claiming the perfect enjoyment of it for themselves, they 
never deny that inestimable privilege from others differing with 
them, but are ever ready to assist in its universal adoption. 
Gen. Montgomery, who fell at the seige of Quebec, was of this 
race, being from Belfast, Antrim, Ireland. Gen. Jackson, the he- 
ro of New Orleans, was born shortly after the arrival of his pa- 
rents from Carrickfergus, the old shire town of Antrim. The 
Daily Times, in an editorial on emigration last winter said : " It 
was the warm blood of the Scotch Irish that lent a terror to the 
Kentucky riflemen on the field of battle." 

All unprejudiced minds will be open to the historical fact 
that Ireland has contributed more to the population of the Uni- 
ted States than any other nation. In 1646 Irish Presbyterians 
emigrated to the American colonies in large numbers. In 1729, 
the historian Dobbs, mentions that no fewer than 3000 males left 
Ulster yearly for the colonies. 

If we refer to the colony of Pennsylvania we find, that in 
1699, James Logan of Lurgan, in Ulster, with a colony of his 
friends, accompanied William Penn to his new Plantation. The 
colony was governed by Logan for two years; during which he 
enriched its capital and bequeathed the First Public Library^ 



5G IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

Philadelphia ever possessed. In the State of Pennsylvania the 
traveller will find the townships of Derry, Donegall, Tyrone, Col- 
eraine and others of Irish northern origin. In 1729 the Irish emi- 
gration to that colony was ten times more than that of all other 
countries put together. Anothergovernor of Pennsylvania, in its 
tarly days, was Thomas Vaughan, a native of Lisburn ; to him 
Penn wrote stating that the colony had been scandalized at home 
by reports of a public celebration of the Mass, and advising him 
to look after the same, which was duly attended to. 

During the American Revolution the Irish people threw their 
entire weight in favor of the colonists. The Irish House of Com- 
mons, exclusively Protestant, refused to vote any aid for the war. 
The Irish in England, headed by Burke, Barre and Sheridan spoke 
and wrote in favor of America. In 1776 the American Congress 
adopted an address to the Irish people in which they drew a 
marked distinction between the British and Irish Parliament. In 
their address they say " Your Parliament has done us no wrong. 

The following extract from a letter written by Benjamin 
Franklin to Thomas Cushing at Boston dated London, January, 
1773, will serve as an illustration of the fact. In it he says : — 
" Before leaving Ireland I must mention that being desirous of see- 
ing the principal patriots then. I stayed till the opening of 
their Parliament' I found them disposed to be friends of 
America, in which I endeavored to confirm them, with the expec- 
tation that our growing weight might, in time, be thrown into 
their scale, and by joining our interest with theirs a more equita- 
ble treatment from this nation might be obtained for them as well 
as for us. There are many brave spirits among them. The gen- 
try are a very sensible, polite and friendly people. Their Parlia- 
ment makes a most respectable figure, with a number of very 
good speakers on both parties, and able men of business." He 
then goes on to relate an act of personal courtesy extended to- 
wards him by the House in his admission to a seat during the de- 
bates — it having been a standing rule to admit noonebut English 
Members within the bar. By a unanimous aye, given on that oc- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 57 

casion, the American Assemblies were considered as English Par- 
liaments, and the same privileges extended towards their Mem- 
bers. 

The first Governor of Pennsylvania, under the Republic, was 
George Bryan, a native of Dublin. In 1771, John Dunlap, a na- 
tive of Strabane, issued the "Pennsylvania Packet, 7 ' the first dai- 
ly paper published in America ; he was afterwards printer to the 
first Congress, and first published in his columns the Declaration 
of Independence. In 1774 Charles Thompson, of Maghera, was 
chosen Secretary of the first Congress, which office he retained 
until 1789. It was he that wrote out the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence from Jefferson's draft ; which he drew from the Declaration 
of Independence drawn up and signed one year previously by the 
Irish Presbyterians at Mecklenburg. It was through him that 
Franklin received his instructions, and that Washington was in- 
formed of his Presidential election. 

In 1776 two Irishmen, Major John Sullivan, and John Langdon, 
with a few of their Irish townsmen surprised the fort of New Cas- 
tle, took the Captain and five men, one hundred barrels of gun- 
powder, fifteen light cannon, and the entire guns which did such. 
service at Bunker Hill. There are many who speak as if Irish- 
men had never done anything towards the cause of Independence 
To such we would ask — Did Thomas Cargill, a native of Bally- 
shannon, do nothing for the town of Concord 1 Did the Irish set- 
tlement of New Hampshire do nothing? Then, why do we read 
of a General Starke, Col. Moore, Col. Eeed, Major John Gofle, 
Capt. Thomas Mc.Loughlin, Lieut. John Patten, with some forty 
or fifty others in the same place, all, of whom, done good service 
in the cause of Independence. 

At the first Council of War, held at Cambridge, two of the 
Brigadier Generals, Richard Montgomery and John Sullivan, 
were Irishmen ; fully one-third of the active Chiefs were of Irish 
origin. Henry Knox, who became the first master of the ordnance, 
was born of Irish parents. 

In New York, Col. James Clinton. Col. James McCleary, Gen. 



58 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

Montgomery, and Gen. Clinton — all Irishmen, are too well known 
to require any further notice. 

In Pennsylvania Col. Anthony Wayne, Col. William Irving, 
Col. William Thompson, Col, Stephen Moylan, Col. Richard But 
ler, were all Irishmen. In addition to these may be mentioned 
Brigadier General Hand. 

In the navy we find the illustrious names of Commodore Bar- 
jry, Capts. Blakeley, McGee, O'Brien, McDonough, Mease and 
Lieuts. Murray, Dale, Decatur and Stewart. 

Of the fifty six signers of the Declaration of Independence 
eight were Irish by birth or descent. Of the thirty six Delegates 
by whom the Constitution of the United States was promulgated 
in 1787 six at least were Irish. 

President Polk was of Irish origin, so was John C. Calhoun, 
and so is Gen. Cass. Gen. Shields, Senator from Illinois, who dis- 
tinguished himself through the entire Mexican war is a Protestant 
Irishman. 

The first Judge of Probate in New Hampshire after the Rev- 
olution was the Hon Mathew Patten an Irishman. In Kentucky. 
alongside with Daniel Boone we find a Major Hugh McGrady, 
Harland, McBride, McConnel and Chaplain. In 1775, we find 
James and Robert McAfee, Benjamim Logan, Simon Butler, Mc. 
Lellan and one Hogan all Irishmen of renown. If we turn to men 
of science and literature we find Ireland supplying her share. 
Who has not heard of Tennent, Finley, Allisons, Thompson, Ram- 
say, Sullivan, Collis, Fulton, Adrian, Wylie, Smyth, McGill, Mur- 
ray and others too numerous to mention all these were Irish by 
birth or descent. 

There is one fact of which we very seldom hear from politic- 
ians,and that is, Catholic Ireland die? furnish O'Reilly's legion, which 
deserted the stars and stripes on the plains of Mexico in the day 
of battle. This case is very seldom brought forward by parties 
who trade for the " rich Irish brogue" and the •' sweet German ac- 
cent. 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



50 



Letter X. 

The Apostolic character of the ancient Irish and British Churches, 
with some account of the introduction of Christianity into the 
British Islands. — Ireland the scat of Religion and Learning be- 
fore the introduction of Popery by the Anglo Saxon. — II r future 
prospects through the restoration of her ancient faith. 

As an Irishman it is sad to return to my own dear native 
land, fairest Isle of the sea, once so interesting and so noble, and 
over which never soared the proud Eagles of ancient Rome, 
even in the. plenitude of their power ; yea, she sent her legions in- 
to Britain and Gaul, and frequently assisted the ancient Britons 
and Gauls to defeat their common enemy, Imperial Rome, and to 
witness her degraded condition for the last seven hundred years, 
all, caused by the satanic foreign influence of modern Rome. 

The earliest and most accurate ecclesiastical writers are of 
opinion that St. Paul was the founder of Christianity in the Brit- 
ish Isles. Joseph, of Arimathea. it is said, sailed from Judea to 
Marseilles, and crossing France proceeded to the British Isles, and 
there preached the Gospel A. D. 04. Origin, writing about the 
year A. D. 234, remarks: "The power of God, our Savior, is 
even with them who are in Britain shut out from the world." 
Tertullian, writing during the same century mentions " places in 
the British Isles inaccessible to the Romans, but which had become 
subject to the dominion of Christ." Eusebius, who lived A. D. 
325, observes that " some of the Apostles crossed the ocean to 
the British Isles." Chrysostom, in one of his letters, about the 
A. D. 390, says, " Although thou didst go unto the ocean and those 
British Isles." 

Ireland, the "Juverna" of the Greeks, and the '•Ilibernia" of the 
Romans, the "Insula Sacra," and "Insula Sanctorum" of the 
early Christian writers, was at one time the nucleus of Religion 
and Learning in Europe. From the fifth to the tenth century, 



60 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

she sent her missionaries (not Romish priests, by any means, but 
pious gospel preachers) to England, Scotland, France and Ger- 
many, among the Angles, Saxons, Picts, Gauls, and Franks. In 
one of her asylums of learning at Armagh, under the pious Cul- 
dees, was educated the good Saxon King , Alfred the Great. 
The Venerable Anglo Saxon Bede informs us that " some natives 
of England both noble and lower rank retired to Ireland, to pur- 
sue a course of sacred studies, and to lead a stricter life." On 
this Led wick remarks: "So zealous and disinterested a love of 
learning is unparalled in the annals of the world." 

The ancient inhabitants of Ireland from the first to the 
twelfth century were called Scoti or Scots and the ancient seat 
of their power appears to have been Dalriacla, on the north-east 
coast, now the County of Antrim, from a colony which left that 
place about the middle of the third century nnder Fergus, the son 
of Eriek, and settled inArgyleshire, Scotland, Caledonia received 
the name of Scots and Scotland. Twenty-eight of these Dalriadic 
kings reigned successively in Argyle where the old tower of 
Dunstaflfnage is said to have been their chief residence. Kenneth 
McAlpine, king of Scotland, was the twenty-ninth in descent 
from Fergus the County of Antrim Chief; from him came the 
House of Stuart which is now merged into the present rightful 
Sovereign of Great Britain. As to the ancient Irish Scots we are 
informed that Killien, a celebrated Irishman in the seventh cen- 
tury, went as a missionary to Germany, and became first bishop 
of Wurtzburgh and apostle of Franconia. In his life, quoted 
by Lannigan his country is called Scotia in the following : "Sco- 
tia quce et Hibernia dicitur insula est maris oceani fecunda guide m 
glebis sed sanctissimis clarior viris" or "Scotia which is also called 
Ireland, is an island in the main ocean of a very fertile soil 
but more renowned for most holy men." The Venerable Bede 
in speaking of Ireland in the eighth century has the following : 
" haic autem propria patria S color um est" — " this is the proper 
country of the Scots." The same venerable historian, in speaking 
of the Culdees of Ireland, says : " They preached only such works 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 61 

of piety and charity as they could learn from the prophetical 
evangelical, and apostolical writings." They were much devoted 
to the study of the holy scripture, and taught their disciples to 
conform their doctrine by testimony brought from this unpollu- 
ted fountain. 

Christianity was first introduced amongst the Northumbrians 
of England by three Scots, natives of Ireland, Aiden, Fenan and 
Coleman, who belonged to the Columbian order and had received 
the Culdee (or what might now be termed Presbyterian) 
ordination. The Culdee missionaries remamed in England evan- 
gelizing the natives until the introduction of " foreign influence," 
by pope Gregory, who sent one Austin with forty monks to 
" convert the pagan Saxons," and subject the Culdee Churches to 
the dominion of Rome. We are told by Bede that " through the 
Scottish missionaries or those whom they had instructed and 
ordained, the greatest portion of England were converted to 
Christianity." 

When Austin and his monkish satellites arrived and were 
Htxly received by the ruling powers, the Culdees all gave up their 
charges rather than submit to the corruptions of the Church of 
Rome, when at the Council held in Yorkshire G02,matters were 
sarried so high in favor of popery that they all left England and 
came back to Ireland their native country, the " Insula Sanctorum" 1 * 
of the age. 

Afler the conquest of England by the pagan Saxons, the scat- 
tered rtys of Christianity disappeared from that country. The 
Celts, or ancient Britons, retired to the mountainsof Cambria and 
Caledonia. The persecutions which the British Christians endur- 
ed, were very severe. Cerdicus, first king of the West Saxons, 
(Hampshire Devonshire &c.,) after a successful battle with the 
Britons aft Winchester A. D. 495, killed all the clergy belonging 
to the church of St. Amphialus, and turned it into an idolatrous 
temple. For more than two centuries after the arrival of the 
Saxons, England became a land of gross idolatry. They had gods 
for every day in the week ; and after those £ods were the days 



02 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

of the week named as follows : Sun's daeg (Sunday) Moon's daeg 
(Monday) Tuesco'sdaeg (Tuesday) Woden's daeg (Wednesday) 
Thor's daeg (Thursday) Friga'sdaeg(Friday) Seatur's daeg (Satur- 
day.) 

After the conversion of the Saxon English to Christianity, by 
missionaries sent from the Irish church, they shortly afterwards 
fell away into Popery, and expelled from England even those of 
their own race, who adhered to the Apostolic faith of the ancient 
Britons. 

Before quitting this branch of the subject, it may be necessa- 
to observe, that the early British and Irish churches were closely 
united in doctrines ; and the Universities of Oxford and Cam- 
bridge, are said to have been originally established, or refounded, 
by distinguished and pious Irishmen, who then held much and de- 
served influence in England. Johannes Scotus Erigena, was in- 
vited over by King Alfred, A. D. 883. 

The physical contest between the British and Saxon races was 
succeeded by contentions between the Saxon church, and that of 
the British and Irish — the Saxon claiming authority from the 
Pope, while the latter denied all Romish pretensions. 

The British bishops on the arrival of Augustine, the Romish 
emissary, considered themselves independent of any foreign juris- 
diction. Augustine, aided by the Saxon king Ethelbert, invited 
them to a conference A. D. 601, that they might be persuaded to 
acknowledge Pope Gregory which they still refused to do ; flat- 
tery having failed, he then threatened them, that ere long, they 
should feel the power of the Saxon swords, and, accordingly, soon 
atter ; Ethel fred the Saxon king of Northumberland, invaded Wales 
with great slaughter, and, among others, put to death in cold 
blood, twelve hundred of the clergy at Bangor! Such was Pope- 
ry twelve hundred years ago! Laurentius, who succeeded Au- 
gustine, also endeavored to bring the British and Irish (then 
called the Scots') Church under his control. Laurentius says, " The 
Irish differ not at all from the Britons in their habits. For 
Bishop Daganus when he came to us, would not take meat with its 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



no, not so much as in the same lodging xohere we were eating.' 1 '' This 
testimony given by a Romish emissary, deserves to be well re- 
membered, as it proves the utter detestation in which popery 
was held in those early ages by the ancient Irish. The fact is, 
that the Orangemen of the present day, with all their experience 
of popery, are not half as much opposed to it as their Christian 
forefathers were twelve hundred years ago ! Was there not some- 
thing prophetic in their uncompromising hostility to popery 1 
Methinks I see the venerable old men of other times as they look 
through the long vista of coming ages, and foresee the degrada- 
tion of their country. Those old men in the twilight of a well 
spent life, as they sit by their doors in the evening shade and 
speak to their sons of days gone by. The pride of their hearts 
arises as they tell of their country's glory — her noble colleges and 
schools of learning, through which had graduated many of the 
royal sons of England and the Continent — their country, the land 
of hospitality ; the abode of genius ; of science y of literature 
and the arts. The land of the exile, and the home of all who 
fled from pagan or from papal persecution. The land to which 
flocked the literati of Europe, and where education was free to all 
who came as the ocean's breath that fanned their island home.— 
But, in the midst of all these pleasing realities, a dark cloud was 
beginning to rise from the east. In the light of Scripture, they 
behold the coming of Antichrist, and the overthrow of their na- 
tional greatness. According to the testimony of one of the early 
fathers, the man who should declare himself to be Universal 
Bishop was the forerunner of Antichrist. That man had actually 
appeared in the person of Boniface III. Two agents of Antichrist 
with a number of followers had arrived in England. The Saxons 
of that country, who had but lately renounced paganism through 
the instrumentality of the Irish missionaries, were now fast falling 
away into Romish error. The word of God was made of none 
effect by their traditions, and the general or Catholic Apostacy had 
commenced ! 

The hostility of the Ancient Britons to Romish error is stii'i 



64 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

further exemplified by the following stanza, translated from the 
Welch of Taliesin, Chief of the Bards, who wrote about A. D. 
620. It is from the " Chronicles of Wales " quoted by Archbish- 
op Ussher, in his " Religion of the Ancient Irish" 

" Woe be to that priest yborn, 
That will not cleanly weed his corn, 

And preach his charge among! 
Woe be to that shepherd, I say, 
That will not watch his fold alway 

As to his office doth belong 5 
Woe be to him that doth not keep 
From Romish wolves his sheep, 

With staff and weapon string !" 

Wilfrid, a Romish priest, was chosen Archbishop of York 
A. D. 6G4, but at first declined the office lest he should receive 
his consecration from those who had been ordained by the Irish 
Bishops, whose communion the Pope rejected The rejection was 
reciprocal Aldhelm, Abbot, of Malmesbury„ by direction of a 
synod of bishops, wrote, in a letter still extent, to Geruntius. 
King of the Britons in West Wales, or Cornwall, A. D. 690, 
urging a union between the British and Roman Churches, he shows 
in most forcible language, the utter contempt and abhorrence 
which the British and Irish churches, had for the professors of Ro- 
mish doctrines. His language is very remarkable : M The British 
priests on the other side of the channel of the Severn, puffed up 
with a conceit of the peculiar purity of their own conversation, 
do utterly dominate the thought of communion with us, insomuch 
that they will not condescend either to join in prayers with us at 
church, or to sit at meat with us at the same table, in the kindly 
intercourse of society : nay, the very fragments that remain of 
our dishes, and what is left after our refreshments, they throw 
out to be eaten by their gluttenous dogs and filthy pigs. The 
vessels too, and cups which we use, they take care to have 
scoured and purified, either with sandy clay from the gravel pit, 
or with yellow ashes from their cinders. They cannot bring them- 
selves to salute us peaceably. But, further, if any of our people, 
that is, the Catholic party, will go to them for the purpose of liv- 
wig among them, they do not condescend to admit such persons 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. G5 

to their company, and society, until they are forced to perform a 
quarantine of forty days penance "! 

Bede, writing A. D. 731, says th.it "eve;i to this day it is 
the manner of the Britons to entertain a contempt for the faith 
and religion of the English, and to hold no more intercourse with 
them of any sort than they would with Pagans." 

The historian, Hume, adverts to the acknowledged indepen- 
dence and self-control of the ancient Christian Church of Ireland. 
He says — " The Irish followed the doctrines of their first teachers 
and never acknowledged any subjection to the See of ito?«e." Bede 
tells us that the celebrated Col mar, an Irishman, who was bishop 
of Lindisferne ; was called upon at a council to dispute the point 
of the celebration of Easter. Colmar argued thus : — " This Eas- 
ter, which I used to observe, I received from my Elders who sent 
me bishop hither, which all our fathers, men beloved of God, are 
known to have celebrated after the same manner, which, 
that it may not seem unto any to be contemned and rejected, is 
the same which the blessed Evangelist St. John, the disciple espe- 
cially beloved of the Lord, with all the churches that he did over- 
see, is read to have celebrated. I marvel how such men call that 
absurd in w r hich we follow the example of so great an Apostle, one 
who was thought worthy of reposing on the bosom of his Lord 
and can it be believed that our venerable father Columbkill and 
his successors would have thought or acted contrary to the sacred 
writings?" While Colmar defended the church of Ireland, Wil- 
frid defended the Romish system. Eridogenus a Romish histo 
rian, informs us that Colmar further added : — " We abide by the 
custom of our fathers, which was given to us by Polycarpthe disciple 
of St. John: 1 

It would be unnecessary to multiply farther instances to prove 
that the ancient Irish and British churches were truly Apostolic — 
that is, held the pure and primitive faith of the Apostles, and de- 
nied all Romish pretensions. The Irish church held out more 
vigorously against Romish error than either the British or Sax- 
on churches. The latter voluntarily acknowledged Popery in the 



GO IRISH PROTESTANT LETTER'S 

seventh century. The British held out for two centuries later, 
and the Irish church until the twelfth century. 

It may now be asked how has Ireland become so popish and 
as a consequence so degraded. It can be said that she was the 
last country in Europe that acknowledged the papal supremacy. 
It was not until the year 1172 that popery was introduced into 
Ireland on the edge of the Saxon sword and the point of the Nor- 
man spear under the Anglo Norman king Henry II, by the " spir- 
itual" advice of his countryman, one Nicholas Brakspeare, eccelesi- 
astically known as Pope Adrian the IVth, this pair agreed for 
their mutual advantage as to the annexation principle. In the 
first place Henry was to conquer Ireland in order (to use the 
words of the papal Bull,) " to extend the bounds of the Church" (of 
Rome) ; after having done so he was to compel each Irish family 
to pay " one carolus annually to the See of Rome; " it was thus 
that popery was introduced into Ireland. 

Ireland, that was once the glory of all lands, and the evan- 
gelist of Europe, has, since the introduction of " foreign influence" 
by popery, become a by-ivord a hissing and. a proverb among all 
nations ; but still ,with all the desolation that has encompassed 
her for the last seven hundred years, I believe that she shall yet 
stand forth in these last days with all that pristine beauty and 
grandeur which so distinguishad her during the early Christian 
ages. For though her evils have been numerous as the shamrock 
of the valley, and have enshrouded her as the mist on her moun- 
tain tops, they have all been caused by popish superstition. Al- 
ready do I see a resurrection among the dry bones, for the ban 
ner of Reformation in the hands of the Scots Irish, the sons of 
Knox, descended from the old Irish Scots, is being unfurled on 
the hills and plains of Connemara, even down to Kerry, and may 
the same suceess attend it which followed the blue banner of the 
Covenant on the hills of Scotland, then shall the days of her 
mourning be ended, for Popery is a disgrace to any nation. 

The Protestant faith is now gaining ground rapidly in Ireland, 
more so than at any previous time since the great Reformation. 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 07 

Both England and Scotland are now sending over missionaries for 
the advancement of that desirable work, and the sons of Ulster 
are also aiding the same cause. With 1848 ended the last would 
be rebellion in Ireland — it was the last struggle of Popery, and 
proved a farcical failure. 



Letter XI. 

Irish degeneration in modem times, the natural result of Popery* 
English regeneration within the last three hundred years ; the natu- 
ral residt of Protestantism: 

Need I refer the reader to unhappy priest-ridden Ireland, 
whLch has so long drank to the dregs the bitter cup of Popery. 
Her degradation as a nation has fully corresponded with her devo- 
tion to the Romish faith, and her ancient glory has become extincfe 
through tha! \ ry means ; her bards may sing 

" Let Erin remember the days of old." 

But still there is a lifelessness in that body politic which even 
the sweetest music cannot resuscitate. The spirit of her people 
rest not in the land of their fathers, but is bound in servile sub- 
jection beneath the foot-stool of the long-discovered Antichrist 
of Rome, that great destroyer of the nations. They have indeed 
drank deeply of the cup which has so long deceived the world. 

In that ancient land of Brehons and Bards can now only be 



said 



" The harp that once thro' Tara's halls 

The soul of music shed ; 
Now hangs as mute on Tata's walls 

As if that soul were fled. 

So sleeps the pride of former days 

So glory's thrill is o'er ; 
And hearts that once beat high for praise 

Now feel that pulse no more." 



Her " patriots," so called, have all with scarcely an excep- 



68 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

tion overlooked the great original cause of all her misery — her de- 
votion to an idolatrous soul-destroying system of worship which 
has prostrated the native energy of her people and turned it into 
a channel disgraceful to humanity. What advantage is it now to be 
toldof the achievements of Conn of the Hundred Battles, the Red 
Branch Knights of Ulster and Niall of the Nine Hostages, down to 
the days of Brian Boroihme ; have not all of these disappeared with 
the light of former days/ As a matter of history,' the events with 
which these names are associated all transpired during her Druidic 
and early Christian ages ;many centuries before the national intro- 
duction of Popery, the way for which, however, was well paved by 
the different colonies of Danes who migrated thither from the 
eighth to the tenth century, after having adopted Romish rites in 
England. 

What a perfect display of foolishness there is constantly man- 
ifested on the part of those self-constituted demagogues who are 
ever prating about English injustice, Saxon tyranny, &c, as if 
such were the sole and only causes of Irish misery, when they 
have been slight in comparison with those of Rome. Is it not a 
fact patent on the page of history that England herself suffered 
equally with Ireland when subject to Popish rule, and would 
have continued to do so until the present day had not the glori- 
ous light of Protestant truth cast its invigorating influence over 
the minds of her people, dispelling those thick clouds of error 
and superstition that had so long enslaved the Saxon mind 1 That 
light was ushered in through the person of Wicklifte the " bright 
and morning star" of the English Reformation, and was success- 
fully maintained against the powers of darkness, even through 
the fires of Smithfield and the despotism of the house of Stuart, 
until the glorious Revolution of 1688, and the advent of the 
House of Orange, which settled on a firm basis in Britain, the 
cause of liberty and truth, laying the foundation of England's 
subsequent greatness and glory. It was not the physical brave- 
ry of the Norman Plantaganet. Coeur de Lion, before whom 
quailed the Saracen's blade, that raised her to the pinnacle of 



IRISH PROTESTANT LKTTERS. 69 

fame and enduring greatness which she has so long maintained 
among the nations; nor was it the indomitable courage displayed by 
her victorious armies at Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt, when 
they fought with cross-bows, broad-swords and battle axes. No ! 
It was after the Reformation that England stood forth before 
the nations, contesting, and that successfully, the star of Em- 
pire, ft was the Reformation that gave us Shakspeare, Bacon, 
Milton, Newton, and that bright constellation of mighty intellects 
whose teachings are destined to be co-equal and co extensive with 
the universality of the Anglo Saxon race and language until time 
shall be no longer. It was the Reformation that crowned with 
victory the fearless patriots of 1688, thereby preparing the way 
during the next 8S years for the great Revolution of 1776. It 
was the Reformation that made this country free, in both a spiri- 
tual and temporal point of view and in exact proportion with the 
devotion of the people to its principles will be their national ad- 
vancement. It was for want of the Reformation that all Popish 
countries have remained in the state of ignorance, mental blind- 
ness, and superstition, by which they are so easily recognized even 
at the present day. 



Letter XII. 

Address to the educated Roman Catholics — Romanism as seen in 
those countries where it wields exclusive and unbounded influence. 

In connection with this subject, I take the following from an ar- 
ticle addressed to the educated Roman Catholics of the British 
Empire, by Henri Gerald Spillan, of Dublin, and first published 
in a journal with which the writer formerly corresponded, "The 
Protestant Watchman," of that city, October, 1S48. After giving 
a general statement of European affairs, from the dismemberment 
of the old Roman Empire; in itself very interesting, but from its 



70 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

length I regret not being able to give it. He proceeds thus; — 

"And in other respects, the religious polity of ancient and mod- 
ern Rome is not dissimilar. 

"The proud Empire, the conqueror of Carthage, whose eagles 
kisseH the blazing sun of Lybia, and shone beneath the snowy skies 
ofScythia — that had woven into the tissue of her Imperial glory, 
the broidered filigree and splendor of the voluptuous Orient, rev- 
elling at once in the perfumed ceremonies of Asia, and the refined 
culture and more graceful philosophy of Greece, whose standard 
waved from the Pyrennes to the Julian Alps — the victor of the 
warlike Gaul, the effeminate native of India, the barbarian of the 
north — the Empire before whose flag quailed the Scythian and the 
sturdy men whose huts lined the Danube — inculcated on all sub- 
ject to her sway, as the primary element of her power, the worship 
of a false, but magnificent system of idolatry, made it, as did 
Papal Rome in the plenitude of her power, when resistance to her 
decrees was death to those offending, the basis of her dominion, the 
unfailing test of conquest; and it was only in the latter days of her 
temporal dominion, at such a crisis as the present, when her chains 
are loosened and nations rise to repel her manifold usurpations, 
and embrace the faith preached by Jesus, that the religious system 
of which Rome was the radiating centre, the meteoric orbit from 
which glowed the noxious heat that diffused its withering influence 
over the human family, gradually died away, uncared for, scorned 
by all, having no martyrs, leaving no train of light in its wake, 
and paling its ineffectual fires before the Labarum of Constan- 
tine. 

" It was at such a crisis in the. world's history as that of which 
we are spectators. 

" Nations had arisen in their own might to repel spiritual bon- 
dage, and assert before Heaven the moral power that dwells with- 
in man in every age, in every clime. Then, as now, a soul-des- 
troying system fettered the soul and limited the natural hori- 
zon of the understanding, indurated the softest and most genial 
impulses of the human heart. 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



71 



"As soon as the spiritual light beamed upon the hearts of those 
who had so long walked in the ways of darkness, the fearful defor- 
mity of the religious culture they had relinquished, became visible; 
they were lost in amazement, as are the recent converts from Ro- 
manist error who have embraced the pure religion of Christ, at 
their supineness, their lack of intellectual strength, almost uncon- 
scious of moral principle, so long dormant; at their own spiritual 
blindness in having been the dupes of an effete Polytheism, abound- 
ing in incredible tales and idle legends, which in the religious 
culture of ancient Rome, constituted as they do now, in mod- 
ern Rome, the germs of belief and faith. To any one who is vers- 
ed in classical mythology and who has read the martyrology of 
the Romish Church — the liquefaction of St. Januarius, in a word, 
the legends affixed in many instances to the Diurnal Office, of the 
work which it is the bounden duty, under penalty of withdrawal 
of priestly faculties, and suspension by the diocesan, of the Roman 
Catholic clergy to recite a portion thereof daily — the legends so 
characteristic of spiritual ignorance clothed in very questionable 
Latinity, appear but paraphrastic versions — like the songs of Fath- 
er Prout and the Spanish ballads of Mr. Lockhart — of the more 
ancient and classical fables, that in the pages of the death- 
less literature of Greece and Rome, charmed the ear and captiva- 
ted the imagination in childhood, divested, it must be confessed, 
of the sagacious moral, and all those delicate shades of beauty of 
conception and expression the rich hues of thought that redeemed 
much of the coarseness of the more antique types of celestial mo- 
rality. 

"Against the debasing spiritual supremacy of Rome, so long 
exercised with despotic power against the best interests of Chris- 
tianity, nations have in our own days risen, and once more soun- 
ded with glad voice the tocsin of mental deliverance, the echo of 
which rings on the banks of the Rhine and amid the leafy groves 
of the Sabine hills. 

"And, my friends, is it necessary for me to give you particular 
instances of this feeling, now universal on the continent of Europe, 



?'i IRISH PROTESTANT LETTER'S 

that floats across the Atlantic, and swells, gathering vigor as it 
travels, alone the Llanos and Savannas of Spanish America ? Is 
it necessary to say that nations have dated their social and polit- 
cal decline in the scale of civilization and moral grandeur from 
the maintenance of Romish error and the dissemination of Papal 
principles/ Is it necessary to travel into the far East, to survey 
the immorality of Goa and the Portuguese possesions where the 
tares of European idolatry have fallen on on a fruitful soil, to con- 
trast the rival cults of Buddhism and Romanism, or mayhap 
in another hemisphere to witness the degeneracy that has befallen 
the priest-ridden Empire of Montezuma — the torpor and apathy 
that have seized on the minds of the inhabitants of that teeming 
garden of beauty— the inevitable consequence of blind submission 
to Romish ordinances, framed for the temporal aggrandizement of 
a power 'bursting with its own plethory,' to survey the conquest 
of Mexico by a handful of Northern warriors, girt, for the most 
part, with the golden armor of Biblical Truth % Is it not necessary 
1 say, to appeal to esoteric examples, how striking soever, when 
Ireland, blessed by Providence with a benignant sky, and a prolif- 
ic soil, rich in mineral wealth, adorned with heathy mountain, and 
swelling woodland, furnishes so vivid an example in history of 
the fearful results that spring from the hateful system under which 
the Western Celt groans, amid privation and passive apathy, and 
that calm despair which is unknown even to the phlegmatic fatal- 
ist of Mahommerl, but which is the result of blind adherence to 
the creed to which he has wilfully delivered the native energy of 
his understanding, nay the warm impulses of his heart. 

"Alas! my friends, it is not necessary — unfortunately, it is a 
fact too notorious — to inquire into the causes which have produced 
the social agrarian feuds and outrages that are so unhappily com- 
mon in Ireland — that have made that nation a byword in Europe- 
an history — that have converted a glorious island of sunny ver- 
dure and beauty into an Aceldema, a field red with native gore, 
that still pours its cursed streams on her plains, and cries to the 
God of Heaven fur vengeance for foul murder! To what cause 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 73 

are we to attribute the social degeneracy of that country in the 
scale of human civilization % To Romanism. 

"Departed, indeed, are the purple glories of Rome — vanished 
are all her splendors. From the citadel on the Seven Hills no 
longer rolls the bolt of vengeance; the thunders of the Vatican 
have subsided into the low growl of sullen discontent; the majes. 
ty of the Pontifical Gesar of " Christianity," the potentate who 
erst swayed the world — 

u Super Garamantes et Indos." 
who limited by his mere dictum the natural boundaries of re- 
mote empires, and hear it, ye foUoivers of repeal, who generously, in 
olden times, made over Ireland as a free gift to a Norman King. 
******* 

" Alas ! my friends, how long will moral blindness seal your 
eyes to the effulgent brightness of the truth ? Does not the nat- 
ural intelligence that is the attribute of a thinking mind tell you 
that where vice of so hideous a dye stains the character of those 
on whose word you place undying trust — that where such prevails, 
religion, morality and Gospel truth cannot abide. Do you not 
perceive that the crazy vessel of Romanism is foundering amid the 
surf and thick waves of its own abomination, not alone on the 
Baltic, on the Atlantic, on the wild sea that girds like a zone of 
pearls the British Isles, but also on the Mediterranean and the un- 
ruffled surface of the Adriatic. 

" Is Rome singular in the disaffection of its inhabitants — their 
detestation of a despotism, hostile to human improvement? Let 
us glance at the countries where like the deadly Upas tree the sys- 
tem flourishes in like rankness of vegetation. 

" I will not allude to the sloth and apathy, the vice and utter 
profligacy, that prevade so generally in the petty duchies and prin- 
cipalities that constitute the Peninsula of Italy, the monkish igno- 
rance, the popular disgust, and wide-spread disaffection that pre- 
vade Lucca, Piombino, Modena, Tuscany, Parma Guastalla, nor 
is it necessary to mention unhappy priest ridden Naples, over- 
shadowed by sacredotal intolerance and bigotry, as well as mo- 



74 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

rsastie vows — where, as in Mexico, the priestly frailties, joined to 
the dissolute libertinism of a large number of religious orders, con- 
stitute the origin of the recent prolinuria me ntos and intestine 
emeutes that have convulsed the European paradise — when on the 
temporary deliverance of the people from the galling yoke and de- 
feasing servitude, imposed by mitred sensualists, the whole nation 
gvinced their gratitude to God by the instant expulsion of the 
Archbishop Codes, the haughty confessor of the Bourbon despots, 
as well as expatriation from the rosy shores of Parthenope, of the 
jeverend drones immersed in profligacy, who like the gryll migra- 
iorii of the East, had so long preyed on the vitals of Neapolitan 
prosperity, 'tainting and poisoning with pestiferous breath, what 
the voracious appetite could not devour.' 

u When, some time since, on my return from Spain, where the 
feeling of the people is strong against the revival and resuscitation 
of Papistry, which now lies entombed in the sepulchre of its for- 
mer orgies — the famed Casa de Inquisition- -like the more antique 
and honored shade of Mahometanism in the Alhambra of Gran- 
ada — I visited Lisbon. I happened to converse with a priest ven- 
erable for his age and literary attainments. After alluding to the 
distracted political condition of Portugal, the financial difficulties 
that weighed upon her prosperity, and the benefits to be derived 
from a closer connection and alliance with Great Britain, in a mor- 
al point of view, he said, in a tone whose solemnity and earnest- 
ness of cadence, I can still recall: — 

"Senhor, believe me, it is not Costo Cabra that we want — nor 
Palmetta's restrictive duties, nor Miguel with his monkish pan- 
derers and satellites — nor English fleets, nor French Free Mason- 
yy and indifference to divine revelation, nor Iberian alliance — nei- 
ther Terceisa's protocols, Saldenha's Utopia, nor Magelhan's ame- 
liorative finance. We want spiritual religion; we want God's 
word — the Bible. 

"These words were the solemn conviction of one who had long 
perceived the evils that flowed from Papal doctrine — who had wit- 
nessed the eventful phases of Lusitanian history for the last forty 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 75 

three years and upwards; who had heard Soult's cannon, and wit- 
nessed the ravages of Junot; who had lived under the tyrannic 
regime of Don Miguel — who had beheld with grief the public prof- 
ligacy of Padre Marco, the confessor of Maria de Gloria, and who 
still lives to rejoice in the spiritual light that is shining upon the 
olive plains of the Algarve; for the word of the Lord is yielding 
a rich harvest in that hitherto benighted region." 

The gentleman from whose letter I have taken the above extract 
somewhat at length, was educated as a Roman Catholic, and inten- 
ded for the priesthood; but by Divine illumination from on high, 
assisting the moral power that dwells within man, he was enabled 
to throw off the bonds that bound him — that chain the intellect and 
enslave the soul. I was present on that interesting occasion, with 
him, in the parish Church of St. Thomas, Dublin, when he with 
several others at the same time, publicly renounced the damnable 
errors of Popery and embraced the religion of Christ. 



70 IRISH PROTE>TA>-T LETTER'S 



Ireland : The Cradle of European Learning. 



BY REV. J. B. FIXLAT. PH. D., LL. D. BROOKLYX, L. I. 



Ereathes there a man with soul so dead — 
Who never to himself hath said, 

This is my own, my native lind: 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home his footsteps he hath turned— 

From wandering on a foreign strand. 
If such their breathes, go mark him well, 
Tor him no minstrel's raptures swell, 

High though his titles, proud his name — 
Boundless his wealth, as wish can claim; 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 

The wretch concentered all in self — 
Living shall forfeit fair renown, 
And doubly dying shall go down 

To the vile dust from whence he sprung, 

Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. — Scott. 

For ceuturies. Ireland was the cradle of European literature. 
"When burning Sappho had ceased to sing, and Thucydides to write 
of " The Isles of Greece " — When Virgil's muse had ceased to 
mourn, and Livy's pen to write Rome's history — When classic 
literature was obliterated by the incursions of the barbarous Goth, 
the rude Hun, the relentless Alan, and the inhuman Moslem — 
When the whole Continent was almost a literary waste — far away 
from the foot of the Goth or the Cimiter of the Moslem — in 
the distant Erin — was a pure literature cultivated, which had 
been handed down from sire to son for more than a thousand years. 
The scoffer who derides everything Irish may try to impugn these 
statements, but the man of intelligence and research, be he native 
born or foreign, will lend to them an attentive ear. What subject 
can be more interesting to an Irishman than the immortal trophies 
of literary fame whk-h were won in former days by h'\> fatherland? 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 77 

Let the ancient schools of learning in Erin tell of Erin's glory ! — 
Let the Records of the colleges of Armagh, Lismore, Ross-Carbary, 
Clonrad, Connaught, Connor, Bangor, Mayo, and Derry, but un- 
fold the names of their Alumni, and they will show the names of 
Europe's royal sons that were once enrolled as students within 
their hallowed walls! Thrice happy days for Ireland ! More than 
six hundred years before the Christian era. a rich literature was 
cultivated by the learned Irish. The Psalters of Tara and Cashel 
can furnish specimens of poetic effusions that are not surpassed by 
the Hebrew, the Greek, or the Roman mnses. According to com- 
mon consent, the ancient Irish cultivated, in no ordinary degree, 
philosophy, letters, and sacred Bibliology. And from this circum- 
stance, as well as from the large number of their churches, the 
appelation given to it was that of" Thp Island of S a 

Indeed the literary fame of Ireland does not rest on doubtful 
evidence, but is attested by the history of Europe. Scarcely is 
there a spot in Europe that is not sacred to Irish literature. 
The chief attraction of Irish schools consisted in their strict 
discipline and thorough knowledge of the Bible. The bio- 
grapher of St. Patrick says : "that eminent christian was accus- 
tomed to expound the Bible for days and nights together 
unto the people." O that the self called followers of St. Patrick 
were now not only to imitate his virtues but to inculcate his prac- 
tices ! St. Columba, another eminent irishman, supported all his 
doctrines by proofs from the Sacred volume. Dr. Lannigan in- 
forms us that in St. Senan's time a vessel arrived in Cork "bring- 
ing fifty religious persons pa-sengers from the Continent, who 
came to Ireland either for the purpose of leading a life of stricter 
discipline or of imp oving themselves in the study of the Scrip- 
tures. 

The venerable Bede — an Anglo Sa.\«>u historian, and of course 
not very friendly to Celtic Ireland — having mentioned a plague 
that raged in the kingdom of Northumberland in the year GG4, in- 
forms us, that it also -'visited Ireland likewise with signal violence. 
There were in that country, at the time we speak of many of the 



78 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTKUS. 

English nobility, and middle classes who at the time of Bish- 
ops Finan and Colman, had left their native island and retired 
thither to Ireland, either for the purpose of studying the Word 
of God, or else to observe a stricter life. And some indeed 
presently devoted themselves to the monastic profession* 
while others chose rather to pay visits to the chambers of the difl 
erent masters; all of whom the Irish received most cordially and 
provided with daily food free of charge, as likewise with books to 
•read, and gratuitous instruction. Among those students were 
two of the English nobility, named Edilhun and Egbert, youths 
of excellent parts, the first of whom was the brother of Edilwin, 
a man equally beloved of God, who himself also went to Ireland in 
the following age for the purpose of studying there, and returned 
to his country well educated, after which having been appointed 
bishop in the province of Lindis, he ruled that Church most nobly 
for many years. " Again, Bede informs us farther that Agilbert, 
bishop of Paris, was in 650, educated in Ireland. About the year 
085, Alfred, son of Osway, succeded his royal brother Egfrid on 
the throne of Northumberland. "He was" says Bede, "a man 
most learned in the Scriptures " — who when the throne became 
vacant — " was living a sojourner in the country of the Scots, in 
Ireland, and there imbibing heavenly wisdom with all his heart's 
attention; for he had left his native land and its pleasant fields to 
learn in studious exile the mysteries of the LoH." Again, Aid- 
helm, Abbot of Malmsbury, in a letter to a student, named Eah- 
frid who had spent six years in Irish schools, asks — " Why should 
Ireland, whither students are transported in troops, by fleets be ex- 
alted with such unspeakable advantages, as if here in the rich soil of 
England, there could not be found any Grecian or Roman teach- 
ers to expound by their interpretations the dark problems of the 
celestial library to inquiring youths. For even though the above 
named country of Ireland, a rich and verdant pasture for the stu- 
dious throng of readers to graze in, be ornamented with bright 
stars like those that glitter in the arch of heaven." At that time 
Europe was lying in pagan darkness, and from the sea-girt shores 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



of Ireland emanated that electric flash of heavenly light that dis- 
pelled the moral spiritual gloom from the minds of Europe's fair 
daughters and enterprizing sons. St. Columba went forth, and 
on the Druid's Isle founded the Seminary of Iona — whose fair 
fame will never die — and by his indefatigable labors the Picts 
bowed submissively to King Jesus. St. Columbanus left the 
shores of his sacred isle and in the true missionary spirit of an 
apostle devoted his life to the conversion of the Suevi, the Boi 
and the Franks of Germany. St. Kilian first introduced the gos- 
pel among the eastern Franks. St. Willibrord converted the Ba- 
ta'vians, the Frieslanders, and the Westphalians. Cedd, Diumer, 
and Frumshere evangelized the Anglo-Saxons. Clement and Al- 
binus were the revivers of learning in France. The one presided 
over the university of Pavia; the other over that of Paris. The 
most renowned commentator on the Pauline Epistles was Sedu- 
lius. Another very learned man named Claudius Scotus flour- 
ished about the year 815. He also wrote a commentary of the 
Gospel of Matthew and the Epistles of Paul. In the beginning of 
the Imperial reign of Charlemagne, literature was buried in the 
ashes of its once celebrated lustre. "When the illustrious Charles," 
says his French Biographer, "had begun to reign alone in the wes- 
tern world, and literature was every where almost forgotten, it 
came to pass that two Scots from Ireland — men incomparably lear- 
ned, both in human knowledge and in the Holy Scriptures, came 
over with some British merchants to the shores of France." 

In the year 831, the doctrine of Transubstantiation was first 
clearly laid down and published by the Roman Church through the 
instrumentality of a monk named Paschasius Radbut. These- 
novel views respecting the communion of the Lord's Supper were 
ably refuted by a celebrated son of Erin — Johannes Scotus Erig- 
ena — a man whom every scholar delights to honor as a profound 
literary and philosophical genius. His influence was felt in Italy; 
for in 1045, the celebrated Berenger publicly maintained the doc- 
trines of Scotus, but in 1045, by the decrees of the Councils of 
Borne and Vercelli he was condemned to the flames. So celebra- 



80 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

ted were the Irish Schools about the year 1070, that the following 
poem was written by John, son of Sulgen, bishop of St. David's 

With ardent love for learning, Sulgen sought 

The school in which his fathers had been taught; 

To Ireland's sacred Isle, he bent his way 

Where science beamed with bright and glorious ray 

But lo ! an unforseen impediment 

His journey interrupted as he went, 

For sailing toward the country where abode 

The people famous in the Word of God, 

His bark by adverse winds and tempests toss'd 

Was forced to anchor on another coast. 

And thus the Albanian shore, the traveller gained 

And there f or five successive years remained — 

At length arriving on the Irish soil 

He soon applies himself with studious toil; 

The Holy Scriptures now his thoughts engage, 

And much he ponders o'er the oft-read p>ige, 

Exploring carefully the secret mine, 

Of precious treasures in the law divine; 

Till thirteen years of diligence and pains, 

Had made him affluent in heavenly gains, 

And stored his ample mind with rich supplies, 

Of costly goods and sacred merchandize, 

Then having gained a literary name, 

In high repute for learning, home he came — ■ 

His gathered store and golden gains to share, 

Among admiring friends and followers there. 

If modern students were to study thirteen years before re- 
ceiving the titles of A. B., or M. D., how many quacks would 
the age get rid of? Surely quackery in literature will one day 
cease ! In the year 1083, flourished that celebrated and learned 
Irishman, Marianus Scotus — who was equally renowned as an 
author and a translator. He published a valuable commentary 
on the Bible — a Chronicle of Universal History — and several other 
works. He numbered among his charity pupils one Nicholas 
Breakspeare — son of an English pauper, but a boy of great 
mental strength. This boy was gratuitously educated by 
the good Scotus : but afterwards allured by the glitter and pom- 
posity of Roman priestly garments; he forsook the home of his 
youth, and abandoned the faith of his preceptor ; united with the 
Church of Rome, and finally ascended the papal throne under the 
-cognomen of Adrian IV., and for one penny a hearth sold Ireland, 



IRI8H PRO TEST ANT LETTERS. 



81 



the scene of his school boy days, the land where he was freely 
educated, to the English monarch. What base ingratitude! 
About the close of the eleventh century flourished the celebrated 
annalist, Tighernach — who was well read in both the Greek and 
Latin Classics. In the year 1607, the learned Cambden— an An- 
glo Saxon writer, says, that, the " Anglo Saxons used to flock to 
gether into Ireland, as a market of learning ; whence it is that we 
continually find it said in our writers concerning holy men of old, 
" He was sent away to be educated in Ireland." " And it would 
appear,"' says he "that it was from that country, the ancient Eng- 
lish our ancestors received their first instructions in forming let- 
ters, as it is plain they used the same character which is still used 
in Ireland." 

From the pages of history it appears, that the educated sons 
of Ireland established those renowned seats of learning in Iona 
in Scotland, in Oxford in England, in Paris in France, in Pavia 
and Bobbio in Italy, in Leuxeu and St Gall in Switzerland ; and 
also the Churches of the Picts, the Scots, the Anglo-Saxons, the 
French, the Dutch, the Swiss, the Germans, and the Icelanders , 
and gave an impetus to literature and philosophy, science and the- 
ology, that has been highly beneficial to the world at large. It 
is amusing to hear the remarks made by certain self-conceited 
persons about Irish ignorance. But who are these critics 1 Nine- 
tenths of them have never read the history of their own country : 
Nine-tenths of them have never had a respectable history of their 
own country in their hands. A certain garrulous self-con- 
ceited person, with whom the writer had the misfortune to be- 
come acquainted, was continually railing at the ignorant Irish, 
as he was pleased to designate the sons of Ireland. An Irish 
Romanist overhearing him one day, called him a son of Henry 
VIII. But so ignorant was this self-conceited being when his 
depth was really sounded that he went to a third party, and told 
him what the ignorant Irishman (!) had called him, and then very 
inquisitively asked who Henry VIII, was 1 Upon being answered 
in the affirmative, he alleged, his unacquaintance with English his- 



82 IR'iSU PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

tory arose from his hatred of England. What a despicable boo- 
by ! still he is a mere specimen of Ireland's slanderers. And it 
is a remarkable fact that addle-headed people who left Ireland be- 
fore arriving at their tenth year of age, and the children of Irish pa- 
rents, are more opposed to Irish immigrants than those whose 
grand parents were true hearted noble American^ 

We do not wish to be blind to the faults of Irishmen. We 
are conscious of these ; and are truly sorry for their misfortunes. 
But who are these unfortunates? Ave they Protestants? No I 
they are of Anglo Saxon origin too The East and South of Ire- 
land are wholly of English origin. y)t ^oetsand scholars, poli- 
ticians and orators, sailors and soldiers, Ireland has given a rich 
supply. Cloutarf, Ballinabwee, Benburb, the Boyne, Aughrim, 
and Limerick, have drawn from Irish hearts seas of blood over 
which her red flag floated unseen from shore to shore. The red 
foot of Irish bravery has kept time to War's death march on the 
burning sands of India. The clang of Irishmen's armor, and the 
shout of their victories have multiplied themselves in the echoes 
of the Alps. Beneath their own green flag they fought at Clon- 
tarf and Benburb ; beneath the tri-color at Cremona and Fonte- 
noy ; beneath the fiery cross of St. George, from Seringapatam to 
Waterloo they proved their faithful allegiance ; and beneath that 
brighter and dearty beloved flag deepening its red stripes with 
their blood, and brightening its glorious stars with their valor they 
fought, for its triumph, at Quebec and Yorktown, at Niagara and 
New Orleans, at Palo Alto and Buena Vista, at Cherubusco and 
Chepultepec. 

A man prejudiced against everything Irish, may stand by 
the tombs of Boyle, of Berkley, of Swift, of Sheridan, of Steele, 
and of Goldsmith, and denyjtp Ireland all claims to genius; he 
may have listened to Miss O'Neill, or Miss Hays, or witnessed 
the living embodiments of Keanand Macklin, and deny all honor 
to Ireland in Music and the Drama. He may have listened to 
the songs of the bards, heard Carolan's harp, or read Anacreon in 
sweeter language than the great original, and drank in even the 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. W3 

" loves of the angels," and deny all claims of Ireland to poetry 
He may pause by the ashes of Burke and Canning, and deny that 
Ireland ever produced a Statesman. He may listen to the still, 
living echoes of Curran's, Grattan's, Cooke's, and McNeill's voices ? 
and deny that Ireland has a claim to eloquence. He may stand 
by the nameless and unepitaphed tomb of Brien Boru, or walk 
heedlessly over the ashes of Emmett, Tone, or Fitzgerald, and de- 
ny to Ireland the virtue of patriotism. But he cannot — no man 
can — stand by the aged Brien at Clontarf, by Hugh O'Neill at 
Ballinabwee, by Sarsfield at Limerick, by Wellington at Water- 
loo, by Gough and Napier in India, by Montgomery at Quebec, 
by Stark at Bennington, by Wayne at Stony Point, by Jackson 
at New Orleans, by Shields at Cerro Gordo and Chepultepec : — 
he cannot — no man can follow Con, and Nial, and Dathy over 
Scotia, Gaul and the Continent — read through the wars of Crom- 
well and the glorious William of Nassau — read through our own 
Revolutionary struggle, the second war, and the conquest of Mex- 
ico — he cannot — no man can trace through history's pages the 
auiuevments of Amiens, Ramilies, Cremona, and Fontenoy, I 
care not how prejudiced, and say, if he understands what he 
says, that the Irish Celt lacked courage, showed want of military 
genius, or failed in heroism, whether the green flag, the trl-color, 
the fiery cross, or the radiant stars and stripes floated over him, or 
became his shroud on fields where he bravely conquered or un- 
daunted fell. 

Protestants of Ireland, be not ashamed of your country ! 
Her literature still survives. Old Trinity, and the four Queen's 
Colleges, are entwining the chaplets of literature around the brows 
of their Alumni. The literature of your country will one day- 
appear more prominent, and be more fully acknowledged. When 
one looks at the list of distinguished names that adorn the annals 
of your country you have reason to take hope of future encour- 
agement. Who silenced the once eloquent tongues of your dis- 
tinguished, learned, and illustrious Christian forefathers ? Was it 
not Popery 1 Who converted your once free and happy country 



84 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

into a land of serf's % Was it not Popery ? — Popery usurped the 
right of granting the ancient Christian Ireland to Henry II., of 
England, on condition he would replenish the coffers of the Pon- 
tiff and convert the national church into a Roman Church. — Po- 
pery created the first sectarianism in Ireland. Popery raised the 
first rebellion in Ireland. Popery caused the Irish Protestant 
Massacre in 1041. Popery persecuted at Wexford bridge, Scul- 
labogue House, and Enniscorthy in 1798, and Popery would, if it 
had the power, persecute now as much as ever. Remember, that 
Popery was an intruder upon Ireland in the year 1172. Remem- 
ber, that before that period, Ireland was free and happy and edu- 
cated and enlightened. Remember that since that period, Popery 
the curse of Ireland, has brought upon its inhabitants, superstition, 
poverty, ignorance, hatred, variance, strife, emulations, sedi- 
tions, heresies. But since the glorious Reformation, rapid advanc- 
es have been made to retrieve her ancient literary glory. And 
now in the highest branches of human knowledge, and on the 
widest arena of human enterprise, the names of illustrious Irish- 
men have been justly celebrated, and highly distinguished. For 
divines, philosophers, statesmen, orators, legislators, diplomatists, 
financiers, historians, poets, astronomers, physicians, sculptors, 
musicians, dramatists, and warriors, Ireland needs not be ashamed 
of a comparison with any nation. For who has not heard of an 
Ussher — the learned divine — the patriotic friend of liberty — the 
patron of the persecuted Alpine Christians ; or a Wellesley and 
a Wellington ; a Burke and a Canning; a Boyle and a Swift; a 
Sterne and a Goldsmith ; a Sheridan and Hastings; a G rattan and a 
Foster ; a Curran and a Flood ; a Clare and a Bushe ; a Yelverton 
and a Hutchinson ; a Sheil and a Plunkett : a Brown and a Jebb ; 
a Loftus and a Sloane ; a Castlereagh and a Charlemont ; a Staun- 
ton and a Macartney ; a Francis and a Malone ; a Knox and a 
Cocte ; a Pottinger and the Parnelles ; a Gough and a Brinkley : 
a Robinson and an Oxmantown ; a Morgan and a Hamilton; a 
Moore and a Morrington ; a Gillespie and an Abernethy ; a Haw- 
kins and a Lever ; a Hall and a Wolfe • a Maxwell and a Lover ; 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



83 



a Carolan and a Maturin; a Faron and a Murphy; a Cooke and a 
Macklin ; a Montgomery and an Edgar ; a Nelson and a Bruce ; a 
Stewart and a Magee ; a McNeill and a Faloon ; a Napier and a 
Davidson ? These are only a few of the distinguished names that 
reflect a halo of glory from the shores of Erin. The founder of 
the Presbyterian Church in this free land was the Rev. Francis 
McKemie— an Irishman. Besides the Rev. Samuel Finley, D. 
D., President of the College of New-Jersey, was an Irishman, and 
so were the sainted Tennents of hallowed memory. Protestant 
Irishmen have everywhere in this land been the patrons of learn- 
ing. The late lamented Rev. Samuel B. Wylie, D. D., of the 
University of Pennsylvania was also an Irishman and an ornament 
to his country. Throughout this glorious Republic, learned 
Irishmen are occupying places of trust with honor to themselves 
and acceptability to those by whom they are employed. And 
they will always continue the friends of learning as their fathers 
were. They love American Liberty, and American Institutions, 
and the noble generous unsophisticated true American people. 
They have no battle to wage against^ America or Americans. 
They do not interfere with American politics They allow Amer- 
icans to rule their own country. The moment they plant their 
feet upon American soil, they feel that they are one with AmerU 
ica, and that They are Americans 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



[From the " New York True American" December 23d 1854.] 

Reminiscences of Dublin — Historical and 
Descriptive. 



Its origin — eminent men — Cathedral Churches—Public Buildings — 
Dublin Castle — the University — general appearance of the City 
— Nelson's Pillar — equestrian statue of King William — Public 
Squares-Phamix Park — closing remarks. 

BT R. R. B. DUBLIN. 

Dublin ! a thousand recollections rise 
With thy dear name, 'mid foreign seas and skies; 
Still should my heart for thee a spot contain, 
Oh ! let thy beauties now inspire my strain. 
***** 

Dublin ! the cradle of my youth — my home, 

With thee what joyful retrospections come, 

'Mongst friends — 'niongst foes, and all life's chance and change, 

Naught shall from thee this downcast heart estrange. 

Sweet home ! how often hath thy memory stole 

In hallowed greenness o'er thissadden'd soul. 

Bayly. 

And what shall I say of Dublin, the home of the writer's 
aeart, of which he is by birth a citizen and freeman ? That an- 
cient city, the Eblana of Ptolemy, the Greek Geographer, in the 
beginning of the second century, or as it was then known in a na- 
tive language, Ath-Cliath-Dubhlinne. From the life of Kevin of 
Glendalough, written in the eighth century, I take the following 
translation from the Latin : " The city of Ath-Cliath is situated 
in the northern region of Leinster, upon a straight of the sea ; 
it is called in the Irish language Dubh-linne, which signifies the 
Black Water, and this city is powerful and warlike, always inhab- 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 87 

ited by men most brave in battles, and expert in fleets." By the 
ancient Britons or Welsh it was, and is still called Dinas Dulinn ; 
signifying the fortress or city of Dublin ; by the Danes it was 
called Dyflyn or Duflin, as may be seen on the coins of the Da- 
nish kings of Dublin, and in the Saga of the Icelandic historians, 
in Johnstone's Celto-Scandinavian Antiquities; by the English, 
the city was called Duvelin, and lastly Dublin, allot" which namen 
were derived from the Irish Dubh-linne, and Latinized Dtiblim 
um. 

The city of the venerable Archbishop Ussher, one of the 
most learned men of Europe in the seventeenth century, and a 
bright particular star in the constellation of the Irish Protestant 
Church. Of Sir James Ware, the renowned Antiquary ; of Jon- 
athan Swift, Dean of St. Patrick's, the eccentric wit and distin- 
guished author ; of Moore, the bard of Erin, in the words of By 
ron, " the poet of all circles, and the idol of his own ;" of Well- 
ington, the hero of Waterloo, who placed the laurel wreath of 
victory around Britannia's brow, the victorious leader of the 
cool Saxon, the cautious Scot and the impulsive Celt. I might 
also say of Mrs Hemans, for though born in Liverpool, she was 
of Dublin parentage, and in the latter city her remains are de- 
posited in a vault beneath St. Ann's church. Her works shall 
last while lives affection in the human heart. 

The ancient Cathedral churches of Dublin, dating long before 
the Norman Conquest, and in which now sleepeth quietly the flow- 
er of Celtic, Danish, Norman, and Saxon chivalry, including 
Strongbow,'and the veteran hero, Schomberg renowned along the 
the Rhine. They are of a bold and daring style of architecture, 
their convenience and beauty, founded as they were, in the heart 
of the ancient city, form a lasting impression on the mind — the 
massy magnificence of their arches — their gigantic pillars looking 
the repose of ages — the spaciousness of their cruciform structure 
— the long vista of their naves and aisles — their lofty concave 
roofs, and splendid choirs. 

I may here state for the information of such as feel an inte- 



OO IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

rest in Episcopal matters, that Dublin is the only See in Europe, 
with the exception of Saragossa, in Spain, that has two cathe- 
drals. I have often, while wandering through the naves and aisles 
of those venerable buildings in my native city, mused on the de- 
parted greatness of former times as there represented in the icy 
marble, and monumental effigies with which they abound. The 
Anglo-Norman nobles of the houses of Ormonde and Kildare, to 
the former of whom the writer is related by immediate maternal 
descent, and the lordly bishop in full canonicals are there, as when 
in life they moved in all the temporal greatness with which they 
were surrounded by the age in which they lived. In the gloomy 
grandeur of those ancient piles, may be seen the banner, helmet, 
and insignia, of many a chivalric knight now mouldering in the 
dust beneath ; and within the hearing of whose resting 
place, ascends as in former years, the molodious pealing of the 
organ, with the swelling of the anthem, in all the rich- 
ness, beauty, and cadence, of the most refined and cultivated 
ecclesiastical music. The patriot, the poet, the warrior, the his- 
torian and the philanthropist, all rest together in silence beneath 
the sombre shades of venerable antiquity. There are some with 
whom I sympathize, who delight in the romance of their solitude 
and stillness, and look back with pleasing emotions to the achieve- 
ments of their ancestors in the days of chivalry ; and when the 
pale moon throws a melancholy shade over the wild mountain's 
brow, love to dwell on, and talk of the tales of other years ; when 
in the language of the sublime Ossian, "chief mixed strokes with 
chief, and man with man — steel clanging sounded on steel, and 
helmets were cleft on high." Some love to sit by the burning 
>ak, and spend the night in songs of old— of those who had been 
eighty in battle, and whose fame shall never fade. There are 
gome I know with whom these sentiments will find no favor, but 
Jhat can easily be accounted for, in the selfishness of this unchiv- 
alric age — it being the golden age of utilitarianism. 

The beautiful public buildings of Dublin, such as the Bank 
of Ireland, the Four Courts, the Custom House, and the Royal 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 80 

Exchange, which stand as the enduring memorials of her Prot- 
estant Parliament, reflecting most favorably on the generous spirit 
of her people. Dublin, though shorn of her beams since the 
Union, still disputes with Edinburgh and the Bath, as being the 
most beautiful city in the empire. From the report of a tour 
through Ireland, published in 1838 by Sir H. D. Inglis, a promi- 
nent member of the British Parliament, I make the following ex- 
tract : 

" Dublin for its size, is a handsomer city than London ; Sack- 
ville street will compare with any street in Europe ; Merrion- 
Square, and St. Stephen's Green, surpasses in extent any of the 
Squares in the British metropolis. There are points of view in 
Dublin, embracing the principal streets, the quays, with their gran- 
ite walls, and beautiful bridges spanning the river, (the city being 
divided exactly in two by the river Liffey,) and some of the finest 
public edifices, more striking, I think, than any that are to be 
found in London, in the architectural beauty of some of her pub- 
lic buildings, she has just reason for pride. I need but name the 
Custom House, and the Bank of Ireland, with its magnificent and 
yet classically chaste colonnades, in proof of this assertion." 

With the public buildings just mentioned, should not be for- 
forgotten Dublin Castle, which once exhibited in walls, towers, re- 
doubts, and battlements, fosses and draw- bridges, all the elements 
of ancient architecture, having been almost entirely rebuilt during 
the latter century, now retains so little of its former lineaments, 
that the site only can be said to identify the modern palace, with 
the original castellated erection. It is divided into two courts, 
the entrances to which are surmounted by the figures of Justice 
and Fortitude ; in the upper court is a collonade, forming the 
entrance to the apartments of the Viceroy, including the presence 
chamber, and St. Patrick's Hall. Thelower court has on one side 
the Treasury, and Vice Treasurer's Office ; on the other the Re- 
cord Tower, and Chapel Royal. The latter is particularly 
worthy of notice, it is an elegant structure in the latter style of 
English architecture. The interior is lighted on each side with 



i>0 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

six windows of beautiful design, enriched with tracery and em- 
bellished with stained glass ; the east window which is of large 
dimensions and beautiful design, is of stained glass; representing 
our Savior before Pilate, and the Evangelists in compartments, 
with an exquisite group of faith, hope, and charity. The wood- 
work is of the finest oak, superbly carved with Gothic ornaments, 
as are also the panels round the galleries, pulpit, with the 
arms and mottos of the several Viceroys from the time of Henry 
the II, while the pulpit is ornamented with the arms of the Irish 
Archbishops. The eastern entrance is by a Gothic door, whose 
drop-stone is upheld corbel-wise by St. Patrick and Brien Bo- 
roihme. 

The University of Dublin is also worthy of special notice, the 
buildings of which, from their extent and magnificence, form one 
of the principal ornaments of the city, consisting of three spa- 
cious quadrangles, erected chiefly after designs by Sir William 
Chambers. The principal front occupies the whole of the eastern 
side of College Green, is 380 feet long, built of Portland stone, 
and consists of a projecting centre, ornamented with four three- 
quarter Corinthian columns, supporting an enriched cornice and 
pediment, under which is the principal entrance; and at each 
extremity of the facade is a projecting pile of square building dec- 
orated with duplicated pilasters of the same order, between which 
is a noble Venetian window, enriched with festoons of flowers 
and fruit in high relief, and above the cornice which extends 
along the whole of the front, arises an attic surmounted by a 
balustrade. The entrance is by an octangular vestibule, the ceil- 
ing of which is formed of groined arches ; it leads into the first 
quadrangle, called Parliament Square, from its having been rebuilt 
by the munificence of Parliament, which granted £40,000 for 
that purpose. This quadrangle which is 316 feet in length, and 
212 in breadth, contains, besides apartments for the fellows and 
students, the chapel, the theatre for examinations and the refecto- 
ry. The chapel, which is on the north side, is ornamented in 
iV ont by a handsome portico of four Corinthian columns, support' 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 91 

ing a rich cornice surmounted by a pediment ; the interior is 80 
feet in length, exclusive of a semi-circular recess of 20 feet ra- 
dius, 40 feet broad, and 44 feet in height ; the front of the organ 
gallery is richly ornamented with carved oak. The theatre on 
the south side, has a front corresponding exactly with that of the 
chapel, and is of the same dimensions; the walls are decorated 
with pilasters of the composite order, rising from a rustic base- 
ment ; between the pillars are portraits of Queen Elizabeth, the 
foundress, and of the following eminent persons educated in the 
college : Primate Ussher, Archbishop King, Bishop Berkley, Dean 
Swift, Dr. Baldwin, William Molyneux, and John Foster, Speaker 
of the Irish House of Commons. There is also a fine monument 
of black and white marble, and pophyry executed at Kome by 
Hewittson, a native of Ireland, at an expense of £2,000, erected 
to the memory of Dr. Baldwin, formerly Provost, who died in 
1750, and bequeathed £80,000 to the University. The refectory 
is a neat building ornamented with four Ionic pilasters supporting 
a cornice and pediment over the entrance ; a spacious ante-hall 
opens into the dining hall, in which are portraits of Henry Flood, 
Lord Chief Justice Downs, Lord Avonmore, Hussey Burgh, Lord 
Kilwarden, Henry Grattan, the Prince of Wales (father of George 
III,) Cox, Archbishop of Cashel, and Provost Baldwin. Over 
the ante-hall there is an elegant apartment for the Philosophy 
School, furnished with a valuable collection of philosophical 
and astronomical instruments ; and in it are delivered the public 
lectures of the Professors of natural philosophy and astronomy. 
The second quadrangle, called Library-square, is 260 feet in length 
and 214 in breadth, three sides of it contain the students' apart- 
ments, and are the oldest buildings in the college, the fourth side 
is formed by the library, a very fine building of granite the base- 
ment story of which forms a piazza, extending the whole length 
of the square, above which are two stories surmounted by an en- 
riched entablature, and crowned with a balustrade. It consists of 
a centre and two pavilions at the extremities ; in the western pa- 
villion are the grand staircase, the law school and the librarian's 



92 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

/ 

apartments ; from the landing place large folding doors open into 
the library, a magnificent gallery, 210 feet in length, 41 feet in 
breath, and 40 feet high. Between the windows on both sides are 
partitions of oak, projecting at right angles from the side walls, 
and forming recesses in which the books are arranged ; the parti- 
tions terminate in fluted Corinthian columns of carved oak, sup- 
porting a broad cornice, surmounted by a balustrade of oak, richly 
carved, and forming a handsome front to a gallery which is contin- 
ued round the whole of the room. From the gallery rises a se- 
ries of Corinthian pilasters, between a range of upper windows, 
supporting a broad entablature and cornice ; at the basis of the 
lower range of pilasters are pedestals supporting busts, finely ex- 
ecuted in white marble, of the most eminent, ancient, and modern 
philosophers, poets, orators, and men of learning, including seve- 
ral distinguished members of the University. At the extremity 
of this room is an apartment in a transverse direction, 52 feet in 
length, fitted up in a similar style, and containing the Fagel libra- 
ry, over which, and communicating with the gallery, is the apart- 
ment for MSS., containing records of great value, illustrative of 
early Irish and English history, works in the Greek, Arabic and 
Persian languages, and some richly illuminated Bibles and missals. 
This magnificent collection comprizes upwards of a 100,000 vol- 
umes, and is the largest collection in Ireland. To the north of 
Library square is the third quadrangle, it is wholly appropriated 
to chambers for the students. A temporary building in the cen- 
tre contains the great bell formerly suspended in the steeple of 
the ancient college chapel. The University Museum,, a handsome 
apartment, 60 feet long, and 40 feet wide, is immediately over the 
vestibule of the entrance of College Green ; it comprizes under 
the superintendence of a curator several collections of minerals, 
of which there are 9,000 specimens. Among other curiosities 
shown, there is the harp of Brien Boroihme, who fell at the battle 
of Clontarf, 1014, the Marathon of ancient Ireland. The Print- 
ing office, founded by Dr. Steam, Bishop of Clogher, is a hand- 
some structure, with an elegant portico of the Doric order, and is 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



93 



situated on the east of Library-square. To the south of the library- 
is a fine garden for the fellows, and to the east of the college 
buildings is the Chemical Laboratory and School of Anatomy; this 
range of buildings, which is 115 feet in length and 50 feet in 
breadth, contains chemical laboratory and lecture rooms, with 
apartments for the Professor; a dissecting room, extending the 
whole length of the building, and an anatomical lecture room, 30 
feet square, an anatomical museum, 30 feet long, and 28 feet 
wide. The Provost's House is on the west front of the Universi- 
ty, and is screened from Grafton-street by a high wall with a mas- 
sive gateway in the centre, The College Botanic Gardens, con- 
taining about 6 acres, have an extensive collection of plants, well 
arranged and kept in excellent order. The College Observatory is 
situated about 4 miles from the city, on Dunsink Hill ; it consists 
of a centre, with two receding wings, the former surmounted by 
a dome which covers the equatorial room, and is moveable, hav- 
ing an aperture of 2 1-2 feet wide, which can be directed to any 
part of the horizon ; around the dome is a platform, which com. 
mands an extensive and varied prospect. The University returns 
two members to the Imperial Parliament. I have given rather a 
full description of this eminent seat of learning, as I have felt a 
particular interest in doing so, not only on its own account, but 
from the fact that the writer's eldist brother, after having success- 
fully graduated, died within its walls. 

Sir H. D. Inglis after speaking of the various public build- 
ings as being celebrated for their architectural beauty, has the fol- 
lowing with regard to the University : 

" This great seminary of learning, the worthy rival of the Eng- 
lish Universities, and in usefulness and liberality far surpassing 
them, is an object of just pride to the Irish Nation. There are 
one or two important differences between the Dublin and English 
Universities, which must not be passed over in silence. The most 
important of these is, that the Dublin College receives within its 
walls dissenters of every denomination, and refuses to them no 
collegiate honors or degrees, except such as are by statute con- 



94 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 

nected with the ecclesiastical discipline of the University. This 
liberality has been attended with the best effects ; the friendships 
formed at College have in countless instances softened the asperi- 
ties of the mixed political and religious controversies by which 
Ireland is agitated ; and has preserved a link of social connection 
when all other bonds were broken. Another essential difference 
is, that the study of the modern languages form a part of the ed- 
ucation in Trinity College. Prizes have been established for pro- 
ficiency in the French, German, and Italian languages." 

In addition to the splendid line of communication afforded by 
the quays on both sides of the river, there are several noble ave- 
nues of fine streets ; particularly Sackville-street, which is con- 
spicuous for its great width, averaging 150 feet, the magnificence 
and beauty of the public buildings, which embellish it, and the 
lofty monument to Admiral Lord Nelson, which stands in its cen- 
tre. It consists of a fluted Doric column on a massive pedestal, 
inscribed on each side with the name and date of his lordship's 
principal victories; and over that which terminated his career is a 
sarcophagus ; the whole is surmounted by a collossal statue of 
the Admiral, its height is about 125 feet, and was completed at 
an expense of £7,000. On the southern side of the city the ave- 
nue from Kingstown is equally imposing. Both meet in College 
Green, a spacious area in front of the University, surrounded with 
noble buildings, and having in its centre an equestrian stature ol 
the illustrious Prince of Orange, King William III, of cast metal, 
on a pedestal of marble. 

Of the public squares, St. Stephen's Green, is the most spac- 
ious, being over a mile in circuit. There are many others besides 
suph as Merrion Square, Mountjoy Square, Rutland Square, the 
areas of the several squares are beautifully laid out in gravel walks 
and planted with flowering shrubs and evergreens. There is be- 
side all these the noble Phoenix Park of over 2,000 acres free to 
the public, I shall here give another extract from Sir H. D. Inglis, 
with regard to it : 

" The inhabitants of Dublin are justly proud of their Phoenix 



IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 95 

Park. Neither in extent, nor in natural beauty, will any of the 
London parks bear the slightest comparison with it. It was here 
that for the first time I saw those magnificent thorn trees, which 
I afterwards found so constant an adorner of every gentleman's 
park, and which even by the highways greatly outvie the thorns 
of our English lanes. The Phoenix Park is of enormous extent — 
said, and I believe, truly, to contain nearly 3,000 English acres. 
Like Greenwich Park, it has its mounts, and its fine single trees, 
and its shady avenues ; but these are more like avenues of the 
Bois de Boulogne ; and besides all this, it has its valleys and rav- 
ines, and extensive groves, with herds of deer, its miniature lakes 
with swan, and also splendid Zoological Gardens. In fact, the 
Phoenix Park, both in extent and in diversity of surface, is supe- 
rior to any public Park, promenade, or prado of any European 
city that I know." 

The same writer in his closing remarks on the city, has the 
following : — 

" No well recommended stranger in Dublin can leave it 
without many pleasant recollections ; for it must be associated 
with much of hospitality and kindness, and with much of that re- 
finement that lends to society so great a charm. There is in Dub- 
lin all the material for the enjoyment of society, excellent houses, 
handsome furniture, and appointments, a sufficiency of domestics, 
good taste, and a will to make all these subservient to the pleasures 
of intercourse, and the virtue of hospitality." 



96 IRISH PROTESTANT LETTERS. 



Lisburn, and its Surrounding Scenery 



Lisburn is situate in the barony of Massereen, which signifies 
" the beautiful portion." It is in a section of the country em- 
phatically distinguished for its pre-eminence of beauty, improve- 
ment and prosperity. — In a district whose wealth, commerce, ge- 
ographical extent, and magnificent scenery, elevate it to a pitch 
of splendor in the history of Ulster, with which no other district 
of that province can enter into competition. It is the second 
town in a county highly distinguished by art and nature, and is 
justly honored in the pages of history, for its enjoyment of all 
that intelligence and social comfort, to which a prosperous indus- 
try in the hand of Christian benevolence, never fails to introduce 
mankind. When we look for beauties in the Wicklow scenery, 
or the grandeur of the Highlands of Scotland, we leel that there 
is something wanted to complete the picture, There is no life — 
there is no relieve. They are as it were beautiful or grand, but 
lone and deserted. The generality of the people justly prefer 
the enlivening scenery which that part of the country presents. 
The various beauties of plantation and bleach-green, of lake and 
waterfall, of plain and mountain, of grove and woodland ;— where 
sloping hills, magnificent vistas, verdant vales, fertile fields, high 
cultivated grounds, and inviting villas shine, indicate to the trav- 
eler that he is in the Eden of Erin ! It is almost impossible to 
bring any country to a state of higher perfection, or find a happier 
display of scenery than that surrounding Lisburn. In the direc- 
tion of Belfast, it is one continued chain of rich plantation beauty. 
A minute description of all the works of art and nature which 



IRISI1 PROTESTANT LETTERS. 97 

combine to produce this perfection would be incompatible with 
the limits of this sketch ; but when the reader presents to his 
imagination a magnificent landscape bounded in front by the Bel- 
fast mountains, watered by the river Lagan, besprinkled with 
beautiful villas ; bleach greens upon the mountain side, glistening 
in the dancing rays of Phoebus ; cottages white as snow, with 
cropped hedges, inclosing gardens and orchards that bend under 
the weight of their productions ; vallies teeming with the gifts of 
Ceres ; those venerable monuments of antiquity the " round tow- 
ers," with numerous«pires and steeples here and there suddenly 
starting up — and all in full view of the traveler, over charming 
roads, which pass through demesnes and villas of incomparable 
beauty. 

So much for the free circulation of the Scriptures, and as a 
natural result the industry of Protestant Ulster, the Goshen, of 
Ireland 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 



THE BRITISH ISLES. 

The Isles, the Isles, the British Isles ? 

Our own, our fatherland, 
Where e'er we go we think of them 

On many a foreign strand. 

The homes of early years are there, 
The joys of days gone by, 

Which memory oft recalls to mind 
Beneath a foreign sky. 

The happy hours of childhood fled. — 
The scenes of early years 

Have passed along the stream of time 
Down through the vale of tears. 

Old England's tranquil happy shores, 
Where live the brave and free; — 

Her sons are found in every land, 
Her fleets on every sea. 

The bonnie hills of Scotland dear, 
Her wild romantic glens, — 

The land of Bruce and Bannockbnrn, 
Which freedom still defends. 

The fertile plains of Erin's Isle, — 
That ancient land of song, 

Whose noble deeds on high appear 
Against oppression's wrong. 

The ancient deeds of great renown, 
Her sons have nobly wrought, 

Are seen on many a battle-field, 
Where hero-like they fought. 

The shamrock, and the thistle-rose, 

So gracefully entwined, 
May they in union ever prove 

A blessing to mankind. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

God bless the Queen of Britain's Isles, 

And bless the Britons too, 
May peace within their borders dwell, 

Where waves the Orange-Blue ! R. R. B. 



THE LAND IN WHICH MY FATHERS LIVED. 

Teh Land in which my Fathers lived. 

In days of other years, 
How sweet the name is always heard 

And pleasing it appears. 

The Land in which my Fathers lived, 

And also of their birth, 
In which were spent their happy days. 

Of young andjoyous mirth. 

The Land in which my Fathers lived, 

In boyhood Rnd in y u'h, 
Its memory ne'ershiill he effaced,— 

Engraven as on truth- 

The Land in which my Fathers lived, 

In manhood's riper years, 
'Mid varying scenes of active life, 

That memory still endears. 

The Land in which my Fathers lived, 

And where they also died, 
Shall in my heart forever dwell, 

And with my soul abide. 

The Land in which my Fathers lived, 

In days <>t "uuld lang syne" 
To guard fair Derry's ancient walls, 

In the glorious olden time. 

The Land in which my Fathers lived, 

B; Antrim's mountain hills. 
Near Lisnagarvey's ancient town, 

Which peace and order fills. 

The Land in which my Fathers lived 

Forevor fare thee well ! 
Shall I no more return to thee 

Or thou Magheraga 11? * R. R. R. 



* In English; "tee Main of tlieWest • Tie n:>me of a Parish Bitnnteo' nn a section 
of rising ground to tht. south west, of the Belfa-t range of mountains, where it forms tbeit 
termination. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 



THE WHITE MOUNTAIN. 

(County of Antrim, Ireland.) 

How far expended is the view 

Which meets the eye from thee ; 
Thy every height shows something new, 

That still can pleasant be. 

Thy beauteous landscape still presents 

A charming view before, 
And brings to mind gone-by events, 

No time shall e'er restore. 

Before thee is the ancient town 

Of Lisnegarvey* seen, 
Where famous deeds of high renown, 

In other days have been. 

Par in the distant Mournef appears, 

With her great mountain chain, 
As in the days of other years, 

When forests filled the plain. 

Prom Belfast up to Lough Neagh's shore, 

By Lagan's peaceful wave, 
Where happy homes still charm thee more, 

And always pleasure gave. 

The placid waters of Lough NeaghJ 

Are seen far to the west, 
And seem as if they thus would say : 

" There is a land of rest." 

Par in the distance to the north, 

Are Antrim's mountain hills, 
AVhose lofty heights do there show forth 

A scene which beauty fills. 

The Scotia mountains, o'er the sea, 

In bold relief appear, 
To show the land where man is free' 

And truth has nought to fear R. R. B. 

*Tififepp6, 11, IT, 96. 

fSfteve Douard, or " the mountain of Donard " is the highest of the Mourne mountains; 
i^iTcoanected with some of the earliest events in Irish history; commencing with the 
swttlcraent of the first Scythian colony in the 15th century B. C. up to the 5th century A. 
lfc. it was called after a leader of that people named Partholan ; after that, it received 
fite«wes«it name from a missionary who built an oratory there. 

$ Lough. Neagh, situate in the Province of Ulster, is the largest lake in the United 
Kingdom ■ and is remarkable for the beauty of its surrounding scenery, from its placid 
dueora arises the beautiful islet, knownas Ram's Island, (it is kept in excellent order by 
Bl*8ceupant, and is well worthy the attention of the tourist) — in the centre of it re- 
ranjjias entire one of those old Druidic round towers, for which Ireland has been so famous 
teaneient times. Their origin is involved in some obscurity, for after tracing back more 
ilbut tw» thousand years, they disappear in the dim twilight of remote Scythian anti- 
sauiifty. 
Bisons in one of his Melodies thus alludes to the subject : 

On Lough Neagh's banks as the fisherman strays 

When the calm clear eve's declining 
He sees the Round Towers of other days. 
In the waves beneath him shining. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 101 

ACROSTIC ON "A PRESBYTERIAN." 

[From the Prottstant Watchman Feb. 9th 1S49.] 

A beam of heavenly hope doth cheer 

P oor fallen man below — 

R elieves him still whene'er oppressed — 

E ncircles from all woe: 

S hall be his guide while life endures, 

B e happiness in death; 

Y ea then with lustre it will shine, 

T hroughout his latest breath. 

E neouragement from Christ our Head, 

Reinaineth for us still; 

I f we but to his word would keep, 

And act upon his will, — 

No more from Him we'd go astray. R. R. B. 



ACROSTIC ON "THE SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT" 

T he noble cloud of witnesses that lived in other years, 

H ave left behind them honored names, which mem'ry still reveres; — 

E ncouragedby their zealous deeds, and their undying fame 

S till may we follow in their path, whose principles we claim; 

O 'er many strong and powerful foes, as victors they returned, — 

L ike Christian heroes still their souls with pious ardor burned. 

E ach heart was fixed while there they stood, a noble fearless band, — 

M ighty for the cause of Truth in Scotia's favored land, — 

N e'er giving up the joyful hope of that immortal life. — 

Jj eaning still on Christ their guide, 'midst scenes of trouble rife — 
E nduring all things for the Truth, so nobly here they stood 
A rrayed against all evil powers, resisting unto blood, 
G aining life and joy and peace through the merits of His cross, 
Unto him they gave all praise, in the mountain, glen, and moss 
E ndued with living faith in Christ, His Covenant and Crown, 

A bright and sure reward was theirs, though all the world should frown, 
N o earthly power could e'er prevail against the chosen few; 
D eath tried his strength in vain upon the faithful and the true. 

Convened by Truth the martyrs fell, 'niicls' SootU-'s movtais fog, 
n the Pentland Hills, at Ayrs-moss, in I.nthwelj *n<l Drumclog, 
Valiant in the rijrhteouscau.-e, through Christ thpir Covenant Head 
E viucing still their faith in Him. who for his pconle bled; 
New strength and courage from above thev ever did receive, 
A s onward here in faith they went, their triumphs to achieve. 
Near unto His people still, is the power of God on high, 
T o comfort all who trust in J-lini, and briqs tuein to the sky. R. R. B. 



lUZ ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

THE VISION. 

A Poemonthe slaughter of Mr. Richard Cameron, and others at Ayrs-moss, on 
the 22nd of July, 1680. Written by an Ayrshire shepherd lad. 

In a dream of the night I was wafted away, 
To the muirlands of mist, where the martyrs lay 
Where Cameron's sword and his Bible are seen, 
Engraved on the stone where the heather grows green. 

'Twas a dream of those ages of darkness and blood. 
When the minister's home was the mountain and wood; 
When in Wellwood's dark valley the standard of Zion, 
All bloody and torn, 'mong the heather was lying. 

'Twas morning; and summer's young sun from the east, 

Lay in loving repose on the green mountain's breast; 

On Wardlaw and Cairntable the clear shining dew. 

Glisten'd sheen ' mong the heath-bells, and mountain flowers blu<* 

And far up in heaven, near the white sunny cloud, 
The song of the lark was melodious and loud, 
And in Glenmuir's wild solitudes, lengthen'd and deep, 
Were the whistling of plovers and bleating of sheep. 

And Wellwood's sweet valley breath' d music and gladness, 
The fresh meadow blooms hung in beauty and redness; 
Its daughters were happy to hail the returning, 
And drink the delights of July's sweet morning. 

But, oh ! there were hearts cherish'd far other feelings, 

Illumed by the light of prophetic revealings, 

Who drank from the seen' ry of beauty but sorrow, 

For they knew that their blood would bedew it to morrow. 

'Twas the few faithful ones who with Cameron were lying, 
Conceal'd 'mong the mist, where the heath-fowl was crying> 
For the horsemen of Earlshall around them were hovering, 
And their bridle reins rung through the thin misty covering. 

Their faces grew pale, and their swords were unsheath'd, 
But the vengeance that darken'd their brow was unbreath'dj 
With eyes turn'd to heaven, in calm resignation, 
They sung their last song to the God of salvation. 

The hills with the deep mournful music were ringing, 
The curlew and plover in concert were singing; 
But the melody died 'mid derision and laughter, 
As the host of ungodly rush'd on to the slaughter. 

Though in mist, and in darkness, and fire they were shrouded, 
Yet the souls of the righteous were calm and unclouded, 
Their dark eyes flashed lightening, as firm and unbending, 
They stood like the rock which the thunder is rending. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 103 

The muskets were flashing, the blue swords were gleaming, 
The helmets were cleft, and the red blood was streaming, 
The heavens grew dark, and tha thunder was rolling, 
When in Wellwood's dark muirlands the mighty were falling. 

When the righteous had fallen, and the combat was ended, 

A chariot of fire through the dark «loud descended; 

Its drivers were angels, on horses of whiteness, 

And its burning wheels turned on axles of brightness. 

A seraph unfolded its doors bright and shining, 
All dazzling like gold of the seventh refining, 
And the souls that came forth out of great tribulation, 
Have mounted the chariot and steeds of salvation. 

On the arch of the rainbow the chariot is gliding, 
Through the path of the thunder the horsemen are riding, 
Glide swiftly, bright spirits ! the prize is before you, 
A crown never fading, a kingdom of glory ! 



WORDS OF AN OLD IRISH AIR. 

Count not the hours while thoir silent wings, 

Still waft them in fairy flight, 
For feeling warm from the purest springs 

Shall hallow this scene to night- 

And while the magic of joy is here, 

And the coiors of life are gay, 
Let us think upon those who have loved us dear, 

The friends who are far away. 

Few arc the hearts that have proved the truth 

Of their early affection's vow, 
Then let those few, the beloved of youth, 

Be dear in their absence now. 

Oh ! vivid long in the faithful breast. 

Shall the gleam of remembrance play, 
Like tho lingering light in the fading hear 

When the sun beam has passed away. 

Soft be tho dream of their pleasant hours, 

Calm be the seas they roam; 
May the path they travel be strewed with flowers 

Till it brings them in safety home. 

And if we whose hearts are o'erflowing thus 
Ourselves should be doomed to stray, 

May some kind orison rise for us 
When we shall be far away. 



104 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

THE EXIL.E. 

Alas! the living glories of the Earth, 

That poetry of God which gave them birth, 

The mountains, lakes, the valleys and the streams, 

Those eyes of landscape loveliness, whose beams 

Reflect Joy's halo over all— whose light 

Dispels the mists of others' Sorrow's Night, 

No more to me bring peace. In vain I gaze 

Upon the leaf and flower; they cannot raise 

The shadow of a shade's tranquillity 

Within a breast that knows no sympathy. 

The gay and glorious univeise of things, 

An antepastof all that Heaven brings. 

Yon circle now which spreads before mv view, 

That realizes Fancy's brightest hue; 

The book which Deity himself did choose, 

When Nature wrote as his appointed Muse, — 

All — are to my dark mind's imaginings 

A dream of mutable and treacherous things. 

Oh ! there is music in the murmuring breeze — 
A sweetness in the song of rustling trees. 
But sad to me the melody serene. 
Tor thoughts of happier days— of what I've been — 
Bring that dark heartlessness which did beseem 
The Hebrews when they wept by Babel's stream. 
And as in freedom roll'd the mocking billow, . 
They hung their unstrung harps upon the willow. 

What recks it to the Exile wandering here, 
From friends afar and all that life holds dear, — 
That he beholds those scenes on every side 
Where laughing seasons lavish all their pride 1 

The darkest spot on Being's bleakful chart 
Is the lone Exile's heavy bursting heart, 
As mourns he all the joys God ever gave, 
Lie wreck'd beneath Misfortune's treacherous wave ! 
Like Noah's bird sent from the sheltering ark, 
The world he ranges, desolate and dark; 
No kindred soul to calm his burning breast, 
Or spot whereon his wearied foot can rest! 
Launch'd on the sea of life without an oar, 
In vain he seeks some hospitable shore ! 
Tho' to the stranger's eye his smile beseems 
As if he knew and felt kind Fortune's beams. 
Ah ! could his sad sear'd soul be ken'd within, 
That very smile would be despair's own grin ! 
If scorn' d the 'Man of Sorrows' was— unknown, 
And when he came, received not by his own. 
If caves the foxes had, the birds their nest, 
Whilst He knew not whereon his head to rest. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

From the cold world, oh ! can the Exile dare 
Expect a foreign soil with him would share 
A soothing balm, to mitigate that strife 
Which gnaws his heart away in Spring of life? 

Ah ! well can T conceive the galling sting, 
Which thoughts of better days to exiles bring. 
Home ! sad remembrance, yet forever dear, 
'Still breath'd with sighs — still usher'd with a tear. 
If e'er I thee or thine forget — be then 
My heart's cold blood the ink that fills my pen ! 
If e'er on foreign soil I sing a song, 
And thee remember not, my tongue be dumb; 
Whene'er my soul shall not for thee expand, 
My Lyre be broken — wither'd be my hand. 

Friends of my Home ! when 'mong the festive crowd— 

'Mid Music's syrens — when the laugh is loud; 

When on some favorite's natal day the Ball 

Is kept, and Beauty walks thy ancient hall — 

When pleasure reigns, and mirth's on every tongue — 

Oh ! think on him, thy exiled child of Song .' 

Him, o'er whose Harp, in wither'dness of heart, 

Oft waken feelings which lost joys impart: 

Who 'mid the stranger's sneers, thy name still breathes — - 

That name pronoune'd, the sword of sorrow sheathes! — 

Drys up the tear, and breaks the bursting sigh, 

Which started at the scowl and cold reply ! 

When on some happy Christmas holy-day, 

The banquet is enjoy'd and all is gay; 

When ev'ry heart is filled with joy and gladness, 

And Bacchus gives a bowl that drowns your sadness? 

When Fancy o'er each mind her spells has flung, 

And feeling pours its soul from every tongue — 

Oh! you by fortune favored, rich in health, 

And wanting nought possessed by worldly wealth, 

By friendship honor'd and by love carest — 

Forget not him by Sympathy unblest! 

But 'mid the blaze of Beauty's brilliant throng, 

In sportive dance — the jest— the jovial song 

Remember him whose life-path teems with woe, 

And sing the songs which Misery's minstrels know! 

When Music's witchery each soul awakes, 
And Memory of the past a survey takes — 
Brings back the vision of those happy years, 
Ere blasted bliss to solitude and tears 
Consign'd those hearts, who on Life's sunny stream 
Believ'd the gilding rays would always beam: 
And when you tell the tale * * * what did retard 
Those joys — Remember then the friendless Bard' 

BAYLY. 



106 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

THE IRISHMAN. 

The savage loves his native shore, 

Tho' rude the soil and chill the air, 
Well then may Erin's sons adore, 

The Isle which nature forin'd so fair; 
What flood reflects a shore so sweet, 

As Shannon great, or pastrol Bann, 
And who a friend or foe can meet, 

So generous as an Irishman. 

His hand is rash, his heart is warm, 

But principle is still his guide; 
None more repents a deed of harm, 

And none forgives with nobler pride; 
He may be dup'd but won't be aar'd, 

More fit to practice than to plan, 
He ably earns his poor reward, 

And spends it like an Irishman. 

If strange and poor for you he'll pay, 

And guide you where you safe may be, 
Are you his guest while e'or you stay, 

His cottage holds a jubilee, 
His inmost soul he will unlock, 

And if he may your merits scan. 
Your confidence he scorns to mock, 

For faithful is an Irishman, 



By honor bound in woe or weal, 

AVhate'er she bids he dares to do: 
Tempt him with bribes, he will not fail, 

Try him in fire, you'll find him true; 
He seeks not safety, let his post 

Be where in ought, in danger's van; 
And if the field of fame is lost, 

'Twill not be by an Irishman. 

Erin, lov'd land, from age to age, 

Be thou more great, more famed, more free; 
May peace be thine, or should'st thou wage 

Defensive war, cheap victory; 
May plenty bloom in ev'ry field, 

Which healthful breezes softly fan, 
And pleasure's smiles serenely gild 

The breast of every Irishman. 

JAMES ORR. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 107 

THE BRITISH IN PORTUGAL. 

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

A various host they came — whose ranks display 
Each mode in which the warrior meets the fight; 
The deep battalion lock? its firm array. 
And meditates his aim the marksman light; 
Far glance the lines of sabres flashing bright, 
Where mounted squadrons shake the echoing mead — 
Lacks not artillery flashing flame and night, 
Nor the fleet ordnance whirl' d by rapid steed, 
That rivals lightening's flash, in ruin and in speed. 

A various host — from kindred realms they came, 
Brethren in arms, but rivals in renown — 
For yon fair bands shall merry Fngland claim, 
And with their deeds of valor deck her crown. 
Her's their bold port, and her's their martial frown, 
And her's their scorn of death in Freedom's cause, 
Their eyes of azure, and their locks of brown 
And the blunt speech that bursts without a pause, 
And freeborn thoughts, which league the soldier with the laws. 

And, oh! loved warriors of the Minstrel's land! 
Yonder your bonnets nod, your tartans wave ! 
The rugged form may mark the mountain band, 
And harsher features, and a mien more grave, 
But ne'er in battle-field throbb'd heart so brave 
As that which beats beneath the Scottish plaid; 
And when the pibroch bids the battle rave, 
And level for the charge your arms are laid, 
Where lives the desperate foe, that for such onset staid 

Hark ! from yon stately ranks what laughter rings, 
Mingling wild mirth with war's stern minstrelsy, 
His jest while each blithe comrade round him flings, 
And moves to death with military glee: 
Boast, Erin, boast them ! tameless, frank and free, 
In kindness warm, and fierce in 'danger known, 
Rough Nature's children, humorous as she: 
And HB,*yon Chieftain — strike the proudest tone 
Of thy bold harp, groen Isle ! — the Hero is thine own. 



THE HUGUENOT BATTLE HYMN. 

Now, glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are! 
And glory to our soverign liege, King Henry of Navarre ! 
Now, let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, 
Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh, pleasant land of Franca 
• Wellington. 



108 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters,. 
Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. 
As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, 
For cold, and stiff, and still, are they who wrought thy walls annoj, 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of war, 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! for Ivry, and King Henry of Navarre ; 

Oh! how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day,, 
We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array; 
With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers, 
And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish spears. 
There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land! 
And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand; 
And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's empurpled flood,. 
And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood; 
And we cried unto the living Power who rules the fate of war, 
To fight for His own holy name, and Henry of Navarre! 

The king is come to marshal us, in all his armour drest; 

And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. 

He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye; 

He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high; 

Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled, from wing to wing, 

Down all our line, a deafening shout, "Long live our Lord the King.' — 

"And if my standard bearer fall, as fall full well he may — 

"For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray — 

"Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war, 

"And be your oriflamme to-day, the helmet of Navarre." 

Hurrah! the foes are moving! Hark to the mingled din 

Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin! 

The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's plain, 

With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. 

"Now, by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, 

"Charge for the golden lilies now— upon them with the lance!" 

A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, 

A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest; 

And in they burst, and on on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, 

Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre. 

Now, Heaven be praised, the day is ours! Mayenne hath turned his rein. 

D' Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish Count is slain. 
Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; 
The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven rnaiL 
And then we thought on vengeance, and all along our van, 

; 'Remember St. Bartholomew!" was passed from man to man; 
But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe: 
"Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go." 
Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, 
As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre! 
Ho' maidens of Vienna ! Ho ! matrons of Lucerne ! 
Weep, weep, and rend your hair, for those who never shall return 
Ho ! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, 
That AnMverp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls,! 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 109 

Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright ! 
Ho ! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night! 
For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave, 
And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valour of the brave. 
Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are; 
And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of Navarre ! 

MACAULAY 



THE DEEP. 

BY MRS HEMANS. 



Thou art sounding on, thou mighty sea, for ever and the same ! 

The ancient rocks yet ring to thee, whose thunders nought can tame. 

The Dorian flute, that sigh'd of yore along thy wave, is still; 

The harp of Judah peals no more on Zion's awful hill. 

And Memnon's too, hath lost the chord that breathed the mystic tone; 

And the songs at Rome's high triumphs pour'd are with her eagles flown. 

And mute the Moorish horn, that rang o'er stream and mountain free, 

And the hymn the learn'd Crusaders sang hath died in Galilee. 

But thou art swelling on, thou deep, through many an olden clime, 

Thy billowy anthem ne'er te sleep until the close of time ! 



THE BRAVE OLD WORLD. 

BY GEORGE LUNT. 

There once was a world and a brave old world 

Away in the ancient time, 
When the men were brave and the women fair, 

And the world was in its prime, 
And the priest he had his book, 

And the scholar had his gown, 
And the old knight stout, he walked about, 

With his broadsword hanging down 
Ye may see this world was a brave old world, 

In the days long past and gone, 
And the sun, he shone, and the rain, it rained, 

And the world went merrily on; 
The shepherd kept his sheep, 

And the milkmaid milked her kine, 
And the serving-man was a sturdy loon 

In a cap and a doublet fine. 

And I've been told, in this brave old world, 

There were jolly times and free; 
And they laughed and sung, till the welkin rung. 

All under the greenwood tree; 



110 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

The sexton chimed his sweet, sweet bells, 
And the huntsman wound his horn, 

And the hunt went out, with a merry shout, 
Beneath the jovial morn. 

Oh! the golden days of the brave old world, 

Made hall and cottage shine ! 
The squire, he sat in his oaken chair, 

And quaffed the good red wine; 
The lovely village maiden, 

$rre was the village queen, 
And, by the mass, tripped through the grass, 

To the Maypole on the green. 

When trumpets roused this brave old world 

And banners flaunted wide, 
The knight bestrode his stalwart steed, 

And the page rode by his side; 
And plumes and pennons tossing bright 

Dashed through the wild melee, 
And he who prest, amid them best 

Was lord of all, that day. 

And ladies fair, in the brave old world, 

They ruled with wondrous sway, 
But the stoutest knight, he was lord of right, 

As the strongest is to-day; 
The baron bold, he kept his hold, 

Her bower his bright ladye, 
But the forrester kept the good greenwood, 

All under the greenwood tree. 

Oh, how they laugh'd in the brave old world, 

And flung grim care away! 
And when they were tired of working, 

They held it time to play. 
The bookman was a reverend wight, 

With a studious face so pale, — 
And the curfew-bell, with its sullen swell, 

Broke duly on the gale. 

And so went by, in this brave old world, 

Those merry days and free; 
The king drank wine and the clown drank ala, 

Each man in his degree; 
And some ruled well, and some ruled ill, 

And thus passed on the time, 
With jolly ways in those brave old days 

When the world was in its prime- 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 



Ill 



NAPOLEON'S EPITAPH. 

BY LYDIA H. SIGOCRNEY. 

"The moon of St. Helena shone out, and there we saw the face of Napoleon's 
sepulchre, characterless uninscribed." 

And who shall write thine epitaph? thou man 
Of mystery and might- 
Shall orphan hands 
Inscribe it with their fathers' broken swordsl. 
Or the warm trickling of the widow's tear, 
Channel it slowly 'mid the rugged rock, 
As the keen torture of the water drop 
Doth wear the sentenced brain? 

Shall countless ghosts 
Arise from Hades, and in lurid flame 
With shadowy fingers trace thine eflBgy, 
Who sent them to their audit unanneal'd, 
And with but that brief space for shrift or prayer, 
Given at the cannon's mouth? 

Thou who didst sit 
Like eagle on the apex of the globe, 
And hear the murmur of its conquered tribes, 
As chirp the weak-voiced nations of the grass, 
Why art thou sepulchered in yon far Isle, 
Yon little speck, which scarce the mariner 
Descries 'mid ocean's foam? Thou who didst hew 
A pathway for thy host above the cloud, 
Guiding their footsteps o'er the frost-work crown 
Of the thron'd Alps,— why dost thou sleep unmark'd, 
Even by such slight memento as the hind 
Carves on his own coarse tomb.stone? 

Bid the throng 
Who pour'd thee incense, as Olympian Jove, 
And breath'd thy thunders on the battle field, 
Return, and rear thy monument. Those forms 
O'er the wide valleys of red slaughter spread, 
From pole to tropic, and from zone to zone, 
Heed not tby clarion call. But should they rise, 
As in the vision that the prophet saw, 
And each dry bone its sever' d fellow find, 
Piling their pillar'ddust, as erst they gave 
Their souls for thee, the wondering stars might deexa 
A second time the puny pride of man 
Did creep by stealth upon its Babel stairs, 
To dwell with them. But here unwept thou art, 
Like a dead lion in his thicket-lair, 
With neither living man, nor spirit condem'd, 
To write thine epitaph. 



112 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

Invoke the climes, 
Who serv'd as playthings in thy desperate game 
Of mad ambition, or their treasure strew'd 
Till meagre famine on their vitals prey'd 
To pay thy reckoning. 

France ! who gave so free 
Thy life stream to his cup of wine, and saw 
That purple vintage shed o'er half the earth, 
Write the first line, if thou hast blood to spare. 
Thou too, whose pride did deck dead Caesar's tomb 
And chant high requiem o'er the tyrant band 
Who had their birth with thee, lend us thine art3 
Of sculpture and of classic eloquence 
To grace his obsequies, at whose dark frown 
Thine ancient spirit quail'd; and to the list 
Of mutilated kings, who glean'd their meat 
'Neath Agag's table, add the name of Rome. 
— Turn, Austria ! iron brow'd and stern of heart, 
And on his monument, to whom thou gav'st 
In anger, battle, and in craft a bride, 
Grave Austerlitz, and fiercely turn away. 
— As the rein'd war-horse snuffs the trumpet-blast, 
Rouse Prussia from her trance with Jena's name, 
And bid her witness to that fame which soars 
O'er him ofMacedon, and shames the vaunt 
Of Scandinavia's madman. 

From the shades 
Of letter'd ease, Oh Germany ! come forth 
With pen of fire, and from thy troubled scroll 
Such as thou spread'st at Leipsic, gather tints 
Of deeper character than bold romance 
Hath ever imag'd in her wildest dream. 
Or history trusted to her sibyl-leaves' 
Hail lotus crown'd ! in thy green childhood fed, 
By stiff-neck'd Pharaoh, and the shepherd kings, 
Hast thou no tale of him who drench'd thy sands 
At Jaffa and Aboukir ? when the flight 
Of rushing souls went up so strange and strong 
To the accusing spirits ? 

Glorious Isle! 
Whose thrice enwreathed chain, Promethean like 
Did bind him to the fatal rock, we ask 
Thy deep memento for this marble tomb. 
— Ho ! fur-clad Russia ! with thy spear of frost, 
Or with thy winter-mocking Cossack's lance, 
Stir the cold memories of thy vengeful brain, 
And give the last line ef our epitaph. 
— But there was silence: for no sceptred hand 
Receiv'd the challenge. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 113 

From the misty deep 
Rise, Island-spirits ! like those sisters three, 
Who spin and cut the trembling thread of life; 
Rise on your coral pedestals, and write 
That eulogy which haughtier climes deny. 
Come, for ye lull'dhiin in your matron arms, 
And cheer'd his exile with the name of king, 
And spread that curtain'd couch which none disturb, 
Come, twine some trait of household tenderness 
Some tender leaflet,nurs'd with Nature's tears 
Around this urn. But Corsica, who rock'd 
.His cradle at Ajaccio, turn'd away, 
And tiny Elba, in the Tuscan wave 
Threw her slight annal with the haste of fear, 
And rude Helena sick at heart, and grey 
'Neath the Pacific's smiting, bade the moon, 
With silent finger, point the traveller's gaze 
To an unhonor'd tomb. 

Then Earth arose, 
That blind, old Empress, on her crumbling throne, 
And to the echoed question, " Who shatl write 
Napoleon's epitaph?" as one who broods 
O'er unforgiven injuries, answer'd "none." 



WAR-SONG OF THE GREEKS. 

BY PROCTOR — (BARRY CORNWALL.) 

Awake ! 'tis the terror of war ! 

The crescent is tossed on the wind: 
But our flag flics on high like the perilous star 

Of the battle. Before and behind, 
Wherever it glitters, it darts 
Bright death into tyrannous hearts. 

Who are they that now bid us be slaves? 

They are foes to the good and the free; 
Go, bid them first fetter the might of the waves ! 

The sea may be conquered, — but we 
Have spirits untamable still, 
And the strength to be free, — and the will ! 

The Helots are come: In their eyes 
Proud hate and fierce massacre burn; 

They hate us, — but shall they despise? 
They are come; shall they ever roturn? 

O God of the Greeks ! from thy throne 
Look down, and we'll conquer alone ! 



114 ORIGINAL AXD SELECTED POETRY 

Our fathers, — each man was a god, 
His will was a law, and the sound 

Of his voice, like a spirit's, was worshipped: he trod, 
And thousands fell worshippers round: 

From the gates of the West to the Sun. 

He bade, and his bidding was done. 

And we— shall we die in our chains, 
Who once were as free as the wind? 

Who is it that threatens, — who is it arraigns? 
Are they princes of Europe or Ind? 

Are they kings to the uttermost pole? 

They are dogs, with a taint on their soul S 



THE SOLDIER'S FUNERAL. 

L. E. L. (MRS. MACLEAN.) 

The muffled drum roll'd on the air, 
Warriors with stately step were there; 
On every arm was the black crape bound. 
Every caibine was turn'd to the ground: 
Solemn the sound of their measur'd tread, 
As silent and slow they follow' d the dead. 
The riderless horse was led in the rear, 
There were white plumes waving o'er thebier\, 
Helmet and sword were laid on the pall, 
For it was a soldier's funeral 

That soldier had stood on the battle-plain, 
Where every step was over the slain: 
But the brand and the ball had pass'd him by,, 
And he came to his native land to die. 
'Twas hard to come to that native land, 
And not to clasp one familiar hand ! 
'Twas hard to be number' d amid the dead, 
Or ere he could hear his welcome said ! 
But 'twas something to see its cliffs once more, 
And to lay his bones on his own lov'd shore; 
To think that the friends of his youth might weep 
O'er the green grass turf of the soldier's sleep. 

The bugles ceas'd their wailing sound 
As the coffin was lower'd into the ground: 
A volley was fir'd, a blessing said, 
One moment's pause — and they left the dead- — 
I saw a poor and an aged man, 
His step was feeble, his lip was wan: 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. H5 

He knell him down on the new-raised mound, 
His face was bow'd on the cold damp ground, 
He rais'd his head, his tears were done, — 
The father had pray'd o'er his only son. 



THE L.ADY OF PROVENCE. 

BY MRS. HEMANS. 

The war-note of the Saracen 
Was on the winds of France; 
It had still'd the harp of the troubadour, 
And the clash of the tourney's lance. 
The sounds of the sea, and the sounds of the night, 
And the hollow echoes of charge and flight, 
Were around Clotilde, as she knelt to pray 
In a chapel where the mighty lay, 
On the old Provencal shore: 
Many a Chatillon beneath, 
Unstirr'd by the ringing trumpets' breath, 
His shroud of armour wore. 
But meekly the voice of the Lady rose 
Through the trophies of their proud repose; 
And her fragile frame, at every blast 
That full of the savage war-horn pass'd, 
Trembling, as trembles a bird's quick heart 
When it vainly strives from its cage to part, — 
So knelt she in her woe; 
A weeper alone with the tearless dead ! 
— Oh, they reck not of tears o'er their quiet shed. 
Or the dust had stirr'd below ! 

Hark ! a swift step: she hath taught its tone 
Through the dash of the sea, through the wild wind's moan. 
Is her lord return'd with his conquering bands? 
No ! a breathless vassal before her stands ! 
"Hast thou been on the field? art thou come from the host?' 
"From the slaughter, Lady ! all, all is lost! 
"Our banners are taken — our knights laid low — ■ 
"Our spearmen chas'd by the Paynim foe — 
"And thy lord' — his voice took a sadder sound 
" Thy lord— ha is not on the bloody ground ! 
"There are those who tell that the leader's plume 
"Was seen on the flight, through th e gathering gloom !" 

A change o'er her mien and spirit pass'd: 
She re 1 "'' *■■*»« heart whi«v, i,.,,i i.„ .,, .... r,, f . 
She dash'd the tears from her kindling eye, 
With a glance as of sudden royalty. 



II© ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRT. 

•* — Dost thou standby the tombs of the glorious dead, 
"And fear not to say that their sou hath fled 1 
"Away !— he is 'ying by lanee an I shields — 
"Point me the path to his battle li Id ! 
Silently, with lips coinuress'd. 
Pale hands clasp'd above her breast, 
Stately brow of anguish high, 
Deathlike cheek, but dauntless eye; — 
Silently, o'er that red pi iin, 
Mov'd the Lady midst the slain. 
She search'd into many an unclosed eye, 
That look'd without soul to the si any sky; 
She bow'd down o'er many a shatter' d breast, 
She lifted up helmet and cloven crest — 
Not there, not there he 1 iy ! 
"Lead where the most hath been d ir'd and done; 
"Where the heart of the battle hath bled;- Load on !"— 
And the vassal took the way. 

He turn'd to a dark and lonely tree 

That wav'd o'er a fountain red: 
Oh, swiftest there had the current free, 
From noble veins been shed ! 
Thickest there the spear-heads gieani'd, 
And the scatter'd plumage stream' d, 
And the broken shields were toss'd, 
And the shiver'd lances cross' d — 
Bb WAS there ! the leader amidst his band, 
Where the faithful had made their last vain stand; 
With the faulchion yet in his cold hand grasp'. I, 
And his country's flag to his bosom clasp'd I 
She quelled in her soul the deep floods of woe, — 
The time was not yet for their wave to How; 
And a proud smile shone o'er ber pale d spair, 
As she turn'd to herfoliowers — ''Your lord is there ! 
"Look on him know him by scarf and Ciesti ! 
"Bear him away with his sires to rest !" 

There is no plum'd head o'er the bier to bend — 
Mo brother of battle— ne princely friend: 

By the red fountain iho valiant lie — 
The flower of Prevencal chivalry. 
Hut one free step, and one lofiy heart, 
Bear through that scene, to the last, their 
"T have won thy fame from the breath of wrong! 
"My soul hath ri-en for thy glory strong! 
"Now call me heme by thy side to be: 
"The world thou leav'st has no place for me. 
"Give me my home on tby noble heart! 
"Well hive we loved— let us both depart!" 
And pale on the breast of the dead she lay. 
Tie living cheek to the cheek of clay. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 117 

The living cheek ! oh, it was not in vain 

That strife of the spirit, to rend its chain ! — 

She is there, at rest, in her place of pride ! 

In death, how queen-like ! — a gloiiius bride ! 

From the long heart-withering early gone: 

She hath lived — she hath loved — her task is done ! 



THE STARS OF NIGHT. 

By FRANCES BROWN. 
["The blind Poetess of Ulster" Ireland.] 

Whence are your glorious goings foith, — 

Ye children of the sky. 
In whose bright silence seems the power 

Of all eternity? 
For time hath let his shadow fall 

O'er many an ancient light; 
But ye walk on in brightness still — 

O, glorious stars of night ! 

The vestal lamp of Grecian fane 

Hath faded long ago: — 
On Persian hills the worshipped flame 

Hath lost ite ancient glow; — 
And long the heaven-sent fire is gone, 

With Salem's temple bright; — 
But ye watch o'er wand'ring Israel, yet, 

0, changeless stars of night ! 

Long have ye looked upon tho earth, 

O'er vale and mountain-brow; 
Ye saw the ancient cities rise, 

Ye gild their ruins now: 
Ye beam upon the cottage home — 

The conqueror's path of might; 
And shed your light alike on all, 

0, priceless stars of night ! 

And where are they who learned from yon 

The fates of coming time, 
Ere yet the pyramids arose 

Amid their desert clime ? 
Yet still in wibls and deserts far, 

Ye bless the watcher's sight, — 
And shine where bark hath never been, 

0, lovely stars of night ■' 



US ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

Much have ye seen of human tears — 

Of human hope and love, — 
And fearful deeds of darkness too, — 

Ye witnesses above ! 
Say; will that blackening record live 

Forever in your sight, 
"Watching for judgment on the earth,— 

0, sleepless stars of night ! 

How glorious was your song that rose 

With the first morning's dawn ! 
And still amid our summer sky, 

The echo lingers on; — 
Though ye h ive shone on in my a grave, 

Since Eden's early blight, 
Ye tell of hope and glory, still — 

0, deathless stars of night ! 



DREAMS OF THE DEAD. 



The peasant dreams of lowly love, — 

The prince of courtly bowers, — 
And exiles through the midnight, rove 

Among their native flowers: — 
But flowers depart, and sere and chill, 

The autumn leaves are shed, 
And roses come again — yet still, 

My dreams are of the dead. 

The voices in my slumbering ear 

Have woke the world, of ol 1, — 
The forms that in my dreams appear 

Have mingled with the mould: 
Yet still they rise around my rest, 

In all their peerless prime, — 
The names by new-born nations blest — > 

The stars of elder time ! 

They come from old and sacred piles, 

Where glory's ashes sleep, — 
From far and long-deserted aisles, — 

From desert or from deep, — 
From lands of ever verdant bowers, 

Unstained by mortal tread; — 
Why haunt ye thus my midnight hours, 

Ye far and famous dead? 



ORIGINAL AND SELKCTKD POKTRT. 119 

I have not walked with you on earth 

My path is lone and low, — 
A vile where biurels have not birth, 

Nor classic waters flow: 
But on the sunrise of my soul 

Your mighty shades were cast, 
As cloud waves o'er the morning rolls,— 

Bright children of the past ! 

And oft, with midnight I have met 

The early wise and brave, 
Oh. ever great and glorious, yet, 

As if there were no grave ! 
As if upon their path of dust, 

Hid been no trice of tears 
No blighted faith, no broken trust 

Nor waste of weary years ! 

But ah ! my loved of early days, — 

How brightly still they bring 
Upon my spirit's backward gaza 

The glory of its spring ! 
The hopes that shared their timeless doom 

Return as freshly green 
As though the portals of the tomb 

Had never closed between! 

Oh! man may climb the mountain snows, 

Or search the ocean wave. — 
But who will choose to walk with those 

Whose dwelling is the g avet— 
Yet when upon thattideless shore 

His sweetest flowers are shed, 
The lonely dreamer shrinks no mora 

From visions of the dead ! 



THE PICTURE OF THE DEAD. 

BY FRANCES BROWN. 

A Chief from his distant forest came, 

To the pale one's lonely tent; 
And he brought Buch gifts as a prince might claim, 

By an Indian monarch sent — 
And "bright may the sun on thy dwelling shine I" 

Said the warrior of the wild, — 
"Stranger, the gifts I bear are thine, 
Who has given me back my child ! 



120 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

"My child who passed to the spirit-land, 

In the sunrise of her years: — 
I have looked for her in our woodland band 

Till mine eyes grew dim with tears: 
But her shadow bright by thy pencil traced, 

Still sweet in my dwelling smiled 
And the hearth she left is not yet a waste, — 
Thou hast given me back my child ! 

"I laid her low in the place of graves, 

Where the ever-silent slept 
And the summer grass in its greenness waves 

Where an Indian warrior wept: — 
For bright was our star, that early set, 

Till we lost its lustre mild 
But she lives in her changeless beauty yet, — 

Thou hast given me back my child ! 

"And say ! when our young, who loved her well, 

Like the pines grow old and hoar, 
Will her youth still last, as they that dwell 

Where the winter comes no more 1 
When the early love of her heart is low 

Will she smile as she ever smiled? 
Oh ! safe from the withering hand of woe 

Hast thou given me back my child ? 

"'Tis well with those of thine eastern land; 

Though their loved ones may depart 
The magic power of the painters hand 

Restores them to the heart. 
Oh ! long may the light of their presence stay, 

Whose love thy griefs beguiled ! 
And blessings brighten thy homeward way, — 

AVho hast given me back my child !" 



STREAMS. 

BY FRANCES BROWN. 

Ye early minstrels of the earth, — 

Whose mighty voices woke 
The echoes of its infant woods, 

Ere yet the tempest spoke ! 
How is it that ye waken still 

The young hearts happy dreams, 
And shed your light on darkened days 

Oh bright and blessed streams ! 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POKTRT. !££ 

Woe for the worM ! she hath grown old 

And gray, in toil and tears; — 
But ye have kept the harmonies 

Of her unfallen years: 
Forever, in our weary puth 

Your ceaseless music seems 
The spirit of her perished youth, — 

Ye glad and glorious streams.' 

Your murmurs bring the pleasant breath 

Of many a sylvan scene, — 
Thoy tell of sweet and sunny vales, 

And woodbinds wildly green. 
Ye cheer the lonely heart of age, — 

Ye fill the exile's dreams 
With hope and home and memory,— , 

Ye unforgotten streams ! 

Too soon the blessed springs of love 

To bitter fountains turn, 
And deserts drink the stream that flows 

From hope's exhaustless urn. 
And faint, upon the waves of life, 

May fall the summer beams, — 
But they linger long and bright with you, 

Ye sweet unchanging streams ! 

The bards — the ancient bards— who sang 

When thought and song were new, 
0, mighty waters ! did they learn 

Their minstrelsy from you 1 
For still, methinks, your voices blend .' 

With all their glorious themes, J 

That flow forever fresh and free 
As the eternal streams ! ,, 

Well might the sainted seer of of old, 

Who trod the tearless shore, 
Like many waters deem the voice 

The angel hosts adore ! 
For still, where deep the rivers roll, 

Or far the t irreut gleams, 
Our spirits hear the voice of God, 
Amid the rush of streams I 



122 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

THE SPANISH CONQJJESTS IN AMERICA. 

BY FRANCES BROWN. 

Shades of Columbia's perished host! 
How shall a stranger tell 
The deeds that glorified your coast, 
^ Before its warriors fell. 

Where sleeps thy mountain muse, Peru! 
And Chili's matchless hills of dew, 
Had they no harp to freedom true, 
No bard of native fire 
To sing his country's ancient fame, 
And keep the brightness of her name 
Unfading as the worshipped flame'? — 
The wealth of such a lyre 
Outvalues all the blood-bought ore 
That e'er Iberia's galleons bore. 

Iberia ! on thine ancient crown 

The blood of nations lies 

With power to weigh thy glory down,— 

With voice to pierce the skies ! 

For written with an iron pen, 

Upon the memories of men 

The deeds that marked thy conquests then, 

Forever more remain- — 

And still the saddest of the tale 

Is Afric's wild and vveary wail, — 

Though prelates spread the slaver's sail, * 

And forged the Negro's chain; 

The curse of trampled liberty 

Forever clings to thine and thee ! 

* A bishop is said to have suggested to the emperor Charles the Fifth, the necessity 
of introducing Negro slaves into the American colonies. 



BINGEN ON THE RHINE. 

BY MRS NORTON. 

A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, 

There was lack of woman s nursing there wa3 dearth of woman's tears 

But a comrade stood beside him as his life blood ebbed away 

And bent, with pitying glances to hear what be might say. 

The dying soldier faltered as he took that comrade's hand, 

And he said "I never more shall see my own, my native land. 

Take a message and a token to some distant friends of mine 

For I was born at Bingen — at Bingen on the Rhine. 

"Tell my brothers and companions when they meet and crowd around, 
To hear my mournful story in the pleasant vineyard ground. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 123 

That we fought 'he battle bravely and when the day was done, 
Full many corse lay ghastly pale beneath the setting sun, 
And 'midst the dead and dying were some grown old in wars, 
The death wound on their gallant breasts the last of many soars: 
But some were young— and suddenly beheld life's morn decline, 
And one had come from Biugen— fair Bingen on the Rhine ! 

"Tell my mother that her other sons shall comfort her old age, 

And I was still a truant bird that thought my home a cage: 

For my father was a soldier and even as a child 

My heart leaned forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild, 

And when he died, and left us to divide his scanty hoard 

I let them take whate'er they would but kept my father's sword 

And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shino 

On the cottage-wall at Bingen— calm Bingen on the Rhine ! 

"Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head, 
When the troops are marching home with glad and gallant tread 
But to look upon them proudly with a calm and steadfast eye, 
For her brother was a soldier and not afraid to die. 
And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name 
To listen to nim kindly without regret or shame: 
And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword and mine} 
For the honor of old Bingen, — dear Bingen on the Rhine! 

"There's another— not a sister; in the hnppy days gone by 

You'd have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye; 

Too innocent for coquetry,— too fond for idle scorning. — 

Oh ! friends, I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning. 

Tell her the last night of my life (for ere this moon be risen 

My body will be out of pain — my soul be out of prison.) 

I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine 

On the vine clad hills of Bingen, — fair Bingen on the Rhine. 

"I saw the blue Rhine sweep along — I heard or seemed to hear 

The German sondes we used to sing, in chorus sweet and clear 

And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill, 

The echoing chorus sounded through the evening calm and still, 

And her glad blue eyes were on me as wc passed with friendly talk 

Down many a path beloved of yore, and well remembered walk 

And her little hand lay lightly,— confidingly in mine 

But we'll meet no more at Bingen — loved Bingen on the Rhine, 



WEEP NOT FOR HIM THAT DIETII. 

BY MRS NORTON. 

"Weep ye not for the dead. nt*ith"' bemoan him; but weep sore for him that goeth 
away, for he shall return no mor. : nor see l>i(> native -ountry." — Jeremiah XXII 10 
Weep not for him that dieth — 
For lie sleeps, and is at rest; 
And the couch whereon he lieth 

Is the green earth's qui* t breast; 
But weep for him who pineth 
On a far Ian t's hateful shore, 



124 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRT. 

Who wearily declineth 
Where ye see his face no more ! 

Weep not for him that dieth 

For friends are round his bed. 
And many a young lip sigheth 

When they name the early dead : 
But weep for him that liveth 

Where none will know or care, 
When the groan his faint heart givetb 

Is the last sigh of despair. 

Weep not for him that dieth, 

For his struggling soul is free, 
And the world from which it flieth 

Is a world of misery : 
But weep for him that wearcth 

The captive's galling chain : 
To the agony he beareth, 

Death were but little pain. 

Weep not for him that dieth 

For he hath ceased from tears, 
And a voice to his replieth 

Which he had not heard for years ; 
But weep for him who weepeth 

On that cold land's cruel shore — 
Blest, blest is he that sleepeth, 

Weep for the dead no more. 



THE STRANGER'S HEART. 

BY MRS. HEMANS. 

The stranger's heart ! oh ! wound it not ! 
A yearning anguish is its lot ; 
In the green shadow of thy tree, 
The stranger finds no rest with thee. 

Thou think'st the vines low rustling leaves, 
Glad music round thy household eaves ; 
To him that sound hath sorrow's tone — 
The stranger's heart is with his own. 

Thou think'st thy children's laughing play, 
A lovely sight at fall of day ; — 
Then are the stranger's thoughts oppressed — 
His mother's voice comes o'er his breast. 

Thou think'st it sweet when friend with friend 
Beneath one roof in prayer may blend ; 
Then does the stranger's eye grow dim, — 
Far, far are those who prayed with him. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 125 

Thy hearth, thy home, thy vintage land — 
The voices of thy kindred band — 
Oh ! 'midst them all when blest thou urt, 
Deal gently with the stranger's heart. 



THE MESSAGE TO THE DEAD. 

BY MRS. HEMANS. 

"Messages from the living to the dead are not uncommon in the Highlands. The 
Gael have such a ceaseless consciousness of immortality, that their departed friends are 
considered as merely absent for a time, and permitted to' relieve the hours of separation 
by occasional intercourse with the olijects of tln-ir earliest affections." 

Thou'rt passing hence my brother ! 

Oh ! my earliest friend farewell ! 
Thou'rt leaving me without thy voice, 

In a lonely home to dwell ; 
And from the hills and from the hearth 

And from the household-tree, ^ 

With thee departs the lingering mirth 

The brightness goes with thee. 

But thou, my friend, my brother! 

Thou'rt speeding to the shore, 
Where the dirge like tone of parting words 

Shall smite the ear no more ! 
And thou will see our holy dead : 

The lost on earth and main : 
Into the sheaf of kindred hearts 

Thou wilt be bound again ! 

Tell then, our friend of boyhood 

That yet his name is heard 
On the blue mountains, whence his youth 

Passed like a swift bright bird. 
The light of his exulting brow, 

The vision of his glee, 
Are on me still— Oh ! still I trust 

That smile again to see. 

And tell our fair young sister, 

The rose cut down in spring, 
That yet my gushing soul is filled 

With lays she loved to sing. 
Her soft deep eyes look through my dreams, 

Tender and sadly sweet ; — 
Tell her my heart within me burns 

Once more that gaze to meet ! 

And tell our white-haired father 
That in the paths he trod! 



126 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

The child he loved, the last on earth 
Yet walks and worships Ood. 

Say, that his last fond blessing yet 
Rests on my soul like dew, 

And by its hallowing might I trust 
Once more his face to view. 

And tell our gentle mother, 

That on her grave I pour 
The sorrows of iny spirit forth 

As on her breast of yore. 
Happy thou art that soon, how soon, 

Our g( od and bright will see ! 
Oh ' brother, brother ! may I dwell, 

Ere long, with tnem and thee. 



THE YOUNG PASTOR. 

B0AIWMILLS 

He came to see his father's hall — 

Sweet cottage of the West — 
He came to grace, at Beauty's call, 

The home his heart loved best 

He came, in manly bloom and power, 

The son of many a prayer ; 
He came to rest in Mossy-bower, 

For sunshine lingered there. 

He came, the herald of the Lord, 

With honours freshly strewn : 
He came to speak the Holy Word, 

To hearts so like his own. 

He came to cheer the parent hearts, 

His own, his dearest shrine ; 
He came to prove the mystic arts, 

So often proved Divine. 

He came, and many thronged around — 
The good, the learned, the fair ; 

And eyes did beam, and hearts did bound — 
Such eyes, such hearts were there ! 

And sweetly poured the voice of song, 

In tones of thrilling power, 
From maiden lips, that made us long 

To chain the happy hour. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 1ST 

He came to summon up the past 

From Memory's treasured store — 
The joys of youth too sweet to last — 

That can return no more. 

He came with manhood's ardent gaze, 

To look where none may ope ; 
To read the book of coming days, 

Which none may read, but hope. 

He came from the land of hill and flood,, 

The land of the good and brave — 
All sprinkled yet with martyr-blood, 
All gemmed with the martyr grave. 

To that land he turned in hope and fear ? 

At duty's sacred call — 
His own adopted, holy sphere, 

His future home and all. 

He looked around whare all was dear, 

The scenes of halcyon days ; 
The home of love, and light, and cheer;, 

The alta home of praise 

The aged sire, the mother loved, 

The sisters good and fair, 
The brother fond, the friends so moved, 

All circled round him there. 

Home, kindred, country, bade him stay-j, 

And Church he loved so trne ; 
He loved them all— but turned away, 

With voiceless, fond adieu. 

We bade him go — for Erin owes. 

To Scotia's church her son, 
(The shamrock for the thistle-rose,) 

For Scotia gave us one. 

May Bethlehem's lovely star him guide. 

And smile in radiance down ; 
Long may he waft Christ's banner wide, 

"For Covenant and Crown." 

Loved may he liv — missed may he di 

Souls prosper in his hand — 
Nor come the day, when he shall sigh 

He left his fatherland. 



128 A.ND SELECTED POETRY". 

THE REFORMATION. 

BO 'MILLS. 

the God of Salem'? where 
lory given"? 
- pi it— Melville's care — j 

■ fire, I lie hand to dare, 
Reforming gifts of heaven ? 

■ from her hills of blue, 

' mosses given, < 

■ f on her view, 
e threw, 
Rook o ; Heaven. ! 

-. nox her banner led, 
From Popery now riven — 

no b ood she shed — 
i .be raised her bead 
the blaze of heaven ! 

iw — nor saw in vain— 
(ho foe was driven ; 
' i im the gloomy reign 
ror rose, and blessed again 
The holy light of hoaven ! 

ipt at Babel's stream, 
- i her had driven — 
I, she saw the beam 
d— it looked a dream, 
rod of heaven ! 



EE PROPHBTS. 

> I ;: nun ' rs sung 

Lie golden tonguo — 

the solar road— 
he coming Ood! 

in darker day, 

urned his face away— 
• l's harp, now with the tempest riven, 

to mourn the wrath of Heaven, 
the captive hour, 

viih life and power— 
, seeing far, revealed 
■ ■ . ' romise sealed. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 129 

' ;hty three ! for chiefs ye be, among 
sons of Zion's sacred song — 
ask, though far behind your flight, 
Fearless to follow to the realms of light. 

By day, b night, your spirit rolls sublime, 
Tom 11 rival all the books of Time — 

ough your radiant milky road 
Of heavenly mind, I'll rise to Zion's God. 

God of the prophets, ay th' Aim ghty same ! 
Inspii i to sing thy wond'rous name — 

And while I live, to Thee alone belong 
The praise and glory of my votive song. 



ERIN, MAVOURNEEN. 

BY MISS TIMS OP DUBLIN. 

Fair land of my birth, though away from thy shore, 
My heart si sh thee only the more, 

To love thee the hotter brigh gem of he sea— 
Oh, Erin, mavourneen, acushla machree! 

In joy or in sorrow, in weal or in woe, 

Thy memory ne'er doth my spirit forego ; 

But in calm or in tempest, turns still true to thee — 

Oh, Erin, mavourneen, acushla machree ! 

When pie w itchword, and joy's sun is brightest, 

Thought retrace; e days which were gayest and lightest; 
9 i iir morn passed through quickly in tb.63- 
D, acushla machree! 

Thought returns to my home, to the place of my birth— 
y heart once held dearest on earth ; 
in it must needs too, link theo 
I i, acushla machree ! 

ire in childhood I bounded— 
iere my young voice rosoundoJ, 

tys, I sigh too for thee — 
i, acushla machree ! 

great many years— 
passed with trials or fears; 

fled sin se I parted from thee— 
in, • acu bla ma hree ! 

b mi bright fancy's wing, 
ro !>■ d grief of its sting, 
. quickly cause all clouds to floe — 
i, ill i machree! 



130 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

Yea, many a vision of greatness and fame, 

My country, wns mingled ami linked with thy name? 

Aye, many a dream was etpen led on thee — 

Oh, Erin, mavourneen, aoushla machree ! 



THE NURSE'S SONG 

The following beautiful lullaby is a literal tran-lu inn from ilie Irish 

Sleep my child, my darling chil 1, my lovely child, sleep; 
The sun sleepeth upon the green fields, 
The moon sleepeth upon the hi in- waves, 

Sleep my child, my darling child, my lovely child, sleep. 

The morning sleepeth upon a lied of roses, 
The evening sleepeth nn 'he tops of ' he d irk hills ; 
Sleep my child, my darling child, my lovely child, sleep. 

The winds sleep in the hollow of the rocks, 
The stars sleep upon a pillow of clou Is; 
Sleep my child, my darling child, my lovely chil 1, sleep, 

The mist sleepi th on the bosom o I the valley, 

And the broad lake under the sh ide of trees ; 

Sleep my child, my darling chil I, my ovely child, sleep. 

The flower sleeps while the night dew falls, 
And the wild birds sleep upon the mountains; 
Sleep my child, my darling child, uuj lovely child, sleep. 

The burning tear sleep :th upon the eh ;e < of sorrow; 
But thy sleep is not the sleep uf te irs : 
Sleep uiy child, uiy darling child, my lovely child, sleep. 

Sleep in quiet, sleep in. joy, my darling, 
May thy sleep never he the si ep of sorrow ; 
Sleep my child, my darling chil I, my lovely child, sleep. 



THE MUSIC OF ST. PATRICK'S* CATHEDRAL, DUBOIS 

BY MRS. IIh.MA.NS. 

"The choral music of St. Patrick's Citheilral l»ubl-n m ilmost unrivalled in its 
combined po we is of voice mgau and scientific -kill — I'ln- maje»iir h;i monj thus pro- 
duced is not it 1 1 tile deep n-'l t>\ the ehaiaeiei t the ,• neh i -.1 whi h i hough small 
yet with its dirk rich feiworu' Umsntly helm, ts and ,., r and ol monumen-al . ffi 
gie>. seems all ti led and over-hadowed tei the sjori , i , , ..m mi - ini qu.tj Ih. in;„i- 
nation never fails to recogni e it a- ■ tin on see <■ fm hi i. i>1 m ii ie- I old ,— . place 
to witness th« dolitary »i|»il of a ms, or to resound w ih the funeral ma ch at tLe 
burial of some warlike king." 

All thp choir 
Sang H Uelujah, as the sound ol i • 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 131 

Again, oh ! send that anthem peal again 
Thro' the arch'd roof in triumph to the sky ! 
Bid the old tombs ring proudly to the strain, 
The banners thrill as if with victory ! 

Such sounds the warrior awe-struck might have heard, 
While arm'd for fields of chivalrous renown ; 
Such the high hearts of kings might well have stirr'd 
While throbbing still beneath the xecent crown. 

Those notes once more ! — they bear my soul away, 
They lend tee wings of morning to its flight 
No earthly passion in the exulting lay, 
Whispers one tone to win me from that height, 

All is of heaven! — yet wherefore to mine eye 
Gush the vain tea s unbidden from their source ? 
Ev'n while the waves of that strong harmony 
Roll with my spirit on there sounding course. 

Wherefore must rapture its full heart reveal 
Thus by the burst of sorrow's token shower 1 
— Oh ! is it not that humbly we may feel 
Our nature's limit in its proudest hoar 1 

* It may not be amiss to inform some of our readers that St. Patrick's is a Protestant 
Church 



ACROSTIC ON A YOUNG LADY. 



M ay joy and gladness find in thee a sure abiding home, 
A nd everything that cheers the mind wherever it may roam— 
R oun 1 all the paths of active life in constant changing time, 
I n every form of noble worth that dwells in every clime. 
A source of pure and living joy with thee is ever found, — 

L ife's brightest hues and sunny dreams with thee shall still abound 

'er sorrow's shade when it appears and all around is dark, 
U nfuding forms of clearest light shall blot out every mark, — 

1 n pleasure's train where sorrow flees and everything is bright 
S hall be thy rest while passes on life's dark and dreary night. 
A s for the joys of coming time wherever they are cast, 

B eforo thee may the future be as what has been the past, 
E vincin^ through each passing hour that thou art still the same, 
L ong may the days of coming time thy joyousness proclaim ! 
S till sweetly blending all the gentler graces of the mind 
II armoniously together the ills of life to bind. 
A constant source of happiness forever shall be thine, 
W ith which all scenes of coming joy will gracefully combine. 

R. R. B. 



132 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF JAMES FREEMAN, ESQ,- 

An Elegy on the death of jAMra Freeman, Esq. of the city of Dublin, an intimate 
friend and correspondent of the Rev. John Wbslby, who departed this lif», the 17th No- 
Tember 1771, in the 32nd year of his age. From the last printed copy extant, published 
in 1772. 

Adieu, dear brother, thou ha9t run the race, 
Thy labors now are crooned with solid peace ; 
Great consolation fills thy heaven born soul 
Which will increase while endless ages roll 
Though like a tender plant or fading flower, 
Cast down and withered in one fl eting hour ; 
So felt thy mortal frame the stroke diviDe, 
So heard thy soul the voice, "Arise and shine :" 
And sweetly answered ; " my Lokd I some :" 
Thus died th christian, when his work wan done. 

" His work," say some " he no good work could do, 
Jesus hath purchased all for me and you. 
The price is paid, the ransom's fully given 
Only believe, believe, and your's is heaven.'' 
It's true my friends, in point of our salvation 
Christ hath done all, good works are the condition ; 
Which we as much believe from faith will flow, 
As that good fruit on a good tree will grow, 

But to return and trace awhile my friend, 
How did he every precious talent spend, 
In serving his great Master and his Lord, 
Who did to him both gifts and grace afford, 
It shone conspicuous what in him was wrought 
Witness his labors at the Gravel Walk ;* 
His passionate desire was often seen, 
When calling home the wandering sons of men. 
His sweet entreaties mixed with fervent zeal 
Did o'er the sinner's stubborn heart prevail ; 
So did the rock like melting wax appear, 
When Jesus owned His favorite messenger: 
He likewise filled the placet conferred by man* 
And labored much the needy to sustain, 
Gladdening the poor, afflicted, and distrest, 
Comforting widows and the fatherless ; 
That lesson he was never known to learn, 
Barely to tell the poor, " Be filled and warmed •' 
No : but his open heart and liberal hand 
Were ever ready at His Lord's command 

* Now I'endrick St., Dublin. Meaning his pious and ardent la-bora i» a Methodist 
Preaching House, towards the erection of which he was the principal contributor and 
preached the first sermon within its walls. As a rather singular coincidence it may be men- 
tioned, that after its re-erection som« fifteen years since it was le-opened by his son-in-law 
the late Rev. William Stewart, one of the most prominent members of the Irish Wes- 
leyan Church- 

| Referring to when he was appointed one of the Church Wardens of St. Luke'fl 
Parish, Dublin. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 133 

Thus he went on his faith by works to show, 
Still conscious who the blessings did bestow, 
And with a cheerful heart e'en to the end 
Gave all the glory to the sinner's Friend : 
So lived and died the man by God approved, — 
Let us pursue him as he did his Lord. 

may we all the solemn warning take 
Before the dead are summoned to awake, 
The cry will issue and the trump will sound- 
Sinner, consider, where wilt thou be found ! 
How stands thy case ? speak, conscience do thy part, 
Give the secure to feel thy keenest dart ; 
Bring forth each Demas now to open light, 
Show them the darkness of Egyptian i ight, 
Which like a massy weight doth clog 
That soul which always might rejoice in God. 

may all such lay every weight aside, 
And get an interest in the Crucifie 1 ; 
But you who do the grace of God retain, 

1 know you love the favorite Freeman's name ; 
But beware, let not your grief exceed 

The bounds of Christian love, for one that's freed 

From all the troubles of a weary life, 

And through Jehovah conquered in the strife ; 

No : rather let us all with strength renewed, 

By his example scale the mount of God ; 

His God is our's, his grace is ever free, 

Only fight on : we're sure of victory. 

Time rolls apace, eternity draws near, 
Jesus on his white throne shall soon appear 
To crown each conqueror with immortal joy, 
Which through eternity shall Dever cloy ; 
There we sliall in eternal songs of praise 
Join our dear Brother in his loftiest lays ! 
With love inspired, no jar shall there be found, 
But tranquil pleasures murmur all around, 

But shall I clo3e my little mite of love, , 

And seemingly forget, or fondly rove 

To things more distant 1 no : I must return 

To her who has the greatest cause to mourn ; 

Namely his other self ; my friend arise, 

Look up, behold he beckons from the skies ; l 

He bids thee cast on God thy every care, 

Dry up thy tears, and meet thy partner there, 

God will provide, his promises are sure. 

Only remember to the end end re ; 

And may the pledges of your mutual love 

Aspire to yon celestial joys above : 

There may we altogether meet, and sing 

One cear'°ss hallelujah to our i* ; ng. 



134 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

LINES ON THE DEATH OF THE L.ATE RICHARD 
BE1LSHAW, ESQ,- 

To the memory of the late Richard Bblshaw, Esq. of Magheragall, Oo. Antrim, an Elder 
in the Presbyterian Church. Ballinderry, who departed this lKe iD the year 1838. Written 
by the Rev. Hexry Lbbbody, Presbyterian Minister, Ballinderry, Co. Antrim. 

And shall I not remember thee 

Thou dear departed friend 1 
No more on earth thy fom I'll see 

Sweet peaceful hours to spend. 

But still to me thy memory's sweet, 

And in my heart entwined, 
The glorious hope we yet shall meet 

Can cheer the pensive mind 

I saw thee in the trying hour 

When death was hovering near 
And then I saw Religion's power 

Forbidding every fear. 

Thy only wish was greater grace 

To bear thy Master's will 
No murmuring at His rod had place 

'Twas praise or prayer still 

And who that stood by thy death bed 

Can e'er forget that scene, 
The joy, the hope in Christ thy Head 

The look of love serene. .. 

Sweet blessed all redeeming grace, 

How bright in thee it shone .' 
A glory seemed to fill the place — 

Thy Saviour did thee own. 

Farewell, dear Saint, awhile farewell, 

My hope is that we'll meet 
In endless bliss with Christ to dwell 

And there each other greet. 

mav my death be like to thine ! 

My latter end be peace, 
Supported, cheered by grace divine 
j Till all my trials cease. ! 

Then borne on angel's wings away 
\ The happy soul shall flee, 

To bask in beams of endless day, 
And Christ forever see. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 135 

THE SIGNING OF THE COVENANT IN THE GREY- 
FRIARS' CHURCHYARD, EDINBURGH. 

From the Lays of the Kirk and Covenant by Mra. Menteath. 

March 1, 1638. 
"This was the day of the Lord's power, in which multitudes offered themselves most 
willingly, like the dewdrops of the morning— this was, indeed, the great dav of Israel 
wherein the arm ol the Lord was revealed — the day of lhe Redeemer'* strej»^t\ ci \-ti^» 
the princes of the people assembled to swear their allegiance to the Kiu& *A Uin$«.'"- • 
Alexander Henderson. 

I'm old ! I'm old ! I'm very frail ! my eyes are dim with age- 
Scarce can I trace the words of life upon this sacred page ; 
Then out upon the unquiet heart!— that yearns, and will not rest, 
To be where Scotland rallies now her truest and her best ! 

I heard them with the earliest dawn ! I heard them gathering fast — 
A sound, as on the mighty sea, the menace of the blast — 
A mingled sound of thousand eet, and voxes blent in one, 
And on the living spring-tide swept — and I was left alone 

Alone ! alone ! oh wearily the day hath lingered by ! 
With now and then a far-off shout, cleaving the distant sky : 
Yet have I wrestled with my God — some hours as moments past; 
But age halts soon — my son, my son ! it is thy step at last ! 

" Father ! a solemn eve hath fallen — a mighty deed is done — 
Pledged to his country and his God — re eive and bless thy son ! 
And pray, my father — ceaseless pray — that I may never shame, 
The oath of God, to which this day I have affixed my name ! 

— "We met wuhin the ancient walls, where once the Greyfriara ruled, 
A concourse vast of earnest men, in common danger schooled ; 
Earth's titled ones— God's ministers — poor — rich — together driven — 
Christ's flock awaiting 'neath the storm, their Shepherd's sign from heaven ! 

"And solemnly, oh solemnly! went np the breath of prayer, 

The silence, as a shadow, brooding o'er the thousands there — 

Only the pulse of each strong heart amid the stillness heard, 

Through which tha voice of Henderson a nation's suit preferred ! 

"Ay, father ! there was One, amid our convocation then, 

Whose eyes are as a flame of fire, to search the souls of men ; 

Whose spirit moving wondrously, from heart to heart, can bring — 

A willing people to the feet of their Almighty King ! 

"And when the noble Loudon spake of Scotland's gospel prime, 

Her Covenants of other days— her glad espousal time — 

How fearless, through the wilderness, her God she followed still, 

And found a very present help in every time of ill — 

" Till one by one, her mighty men were gathered to thoir graves, 

And sons, degenerate from their sires, made Christ's own freemen slaves — 

Discrowning His anointed head to gem an earthly brow — 

Making our Father's holy house the ruin it is now ! — 

" Oh ! then there was such weeping, through that bowed and silent throng, 

Such self-accusing bitterness for gult contracted long, 

Such binding of the broken vows upon the soul once more — 

That very moment made us free — as we were free of yore ! 



136 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

"And now, with tone distinct and clear, as one whose word is power, 
Johnston of Warriston stood forth, (God's gift in dangers hour,) 
A mighty parchment in his hand, from which he read — the while 
A sudden sunburst filled the place with heaven's approving smile ! 
" He ended— and there was a pause— a pause of holy fear — 
Who, to test the oath of God, shall first adventure near — 
It was not doubt, but solemn awe, and self-distrusting shame, 
And that each deemed his brother bore a less unworthy name ! 

" Till the good Exrl of Sutherland — the brave old E irl and true, 
One moment bowed his reverent head, then toward the table drew ; 
' So deal my God with me, and mine, till latest ages be, 
As we prove steadfast in this bond, I bind on them and me !' 
"Then followed Rothes quickly on — Cassilis, and Hay and Home ; 
Montrose, as if almost he grudged to lose the foremost room — 
Loudon, his country's beacon-light amid her mirkiest hour, 
With many a noble name beside — a kingdom's hope and flower ! 
" Now Henderson, the called of God— Dickson, the owned of heaven, 
(Surely a blessing waits the land to which such guides are given !) 
Guthrie — as though upon the cast his life he longed to stake, 
And Rutherford, with look inspired — as if his master spake ! 
"Bless God, my father, who hath lent the land we love so well, 
Sons valiant for the truth on earth, more than my tongue can tell- 
To name but those already proved by many a searching test, 
Would wile us from the hour of prayer, and steal thy midnight rest ! 
"Yet must thou hear — when all had signed within the house of God, 
How still a multitude without, each on the other t od — 
Pressing with fervent footsteps ou, and many an earnest prayer, 
That they in Scotland's Covenant might register their share ! 
" Oh! Arthur's Seat gave back the shout of t iat assembled crowd, 
As one bare forth the mighty bond — and many wept aloud — 
They spread it on a tombstone head — (a martyr slept beneath) — 
And some subscribed it with their blood, and added ' Until death !' 
" Ay ! young and old were moved alike — with prayers, and groans and tears r 
Surely the fruit of such a day is yet for many years ! 
And, owned in heaven, tho strong appeal of each uplifted hand, 
As evening's sun went down upon the covenanted land !" 
— That old man rose up in his place — he bared his locks of gray ; 
" Lord, let thy servant now depart, f ir I have seen this day — 
Upon my head in early youth, John Knox's hand hath lain, 
And I have seen his buried work unsepulchred again ! 
"Speed on thou covenanted cause ! God's blessing upon thee ! 
Baptized in Scotland's dearest blood — albeit thou needs must be — 
Christ came not to send peace on earth— only may that red rain, 
Still fructify thy living seed till He return again ! 
" My country ! oh my country ! yea for thee the light is sown,* 

Only be steadfast in thy trust let no man take thy crown ! 

Thine be the standard-bearer's place ! the post of suffering high— - 
God's blessing on the Covenant— I'll sign it ere I die I" 
* Ts. xavii. 11. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 137 

FEDEX AT THE GRAVE OF CAMERON. 

From the Lays of the Kirk and Covenant by Mrs. Menteath. 

A sound of conflict in the moss ! but that hath passed away, 
And through a stormy noon and eve the dead unburied lay ; 
But when the sun a second time his fitful splendors gave, 
One slant ray rested, like a hope, on Cameroa's new-made grave ! 

There had been watchers in the night ! strange watchers gaunt and grim, 
And wearily— with faint lean hands, they toiled a grave for him — 
But ere they laid the headless limbs unto their mangled rest, 
As orphaned children sat they down, and wept upon his breast ! 

! dreary, dreary, was the lot of Scotland's true ones then — 
A famine-stricken remnant, wearing scarce the guise of men ; 
They burrowed, few and lonely, 'mid the chill, dank mountain caves, 
For those who once had sheltered them were in their martyr graves! 

A sword had rested on the land — it d;d not pass away — 
Long had they watched and waited, but there dawned no brighter day ; 
And many had gone back from them, who owned the truth of old, 
Because of much iniquity their love was waxen cold ! 

There came a worn and weary man to Cameron's place of rest, 
He cast him down upon the sod — he smote upon his breast — 
He wept as only strong men weep, when weep they must, or dia — 
And. " Oh ! to be wi' thee, Ritchie !" was still his bitter cry ! 

" My brother ! my brother ! thou hast passed before the time, 

And thy blood it cries for vengeance, from this purple land of crime ; 

Who now shall break the bread of life unto the faithful band — 

Who now upraise the standard that is shattered in thine hand ! 

'• Alas ! alas ! for Scotland ! the once beloved of heaven — 

The crown is fallen from her head — her holy garments riven — 

The ashes of her Covenant are scattered far and near, 

And the voice speaks loud in judgment — which in love she would not hear I 

" Alas ! alas ! for Scotia d ! for her mighty ones are gone, 
Thou, brother — thou art taken — I am left almost alone ; 
And my heart is faint within me, and my strength is dried and lost, 
A feeble and an aged man — alone against a host ! 

" pleasant was it, Ritchie, when we two could counsel take, 

And strengthen one another to be valiant for His sake 

Now seems it as the sap were dried, from the old blasted tree, 

And the homeless— and the friendless — would fain lie down with thee !" 

It was an hour of weakness — as the old man bowed his head, 
And a bitt r anguish rent him, as he communed with the dead ; 
It was an hour of conflict — and he groaned beneath the rod — 
But the burthen rolled from off him as he communed with his God ! 

" My Father ! my Father ! shall I pray the Tishbite's prayer, 
And weary in the wilderness, while Thou wouldst keep me there! 
And shall I fear the coward fear, of standing all alone, 
To testify for Zion's King, and the glory of His throne! 



138 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

" Jesus ! blessed Jesus ! I am poor, and frail, and weak, 
Let mo not utter of mine own — for idle works I speak — 
But give me grace to wrestle now, and prompt my faltering tongue, 
And breathe Thy name into my soul, and so I shall be strong ! 

— " I bless Thee for the quiet rest thy servant taketh now — 
I bless Thee for his blessedness, and for his crowned brow — 
For every step he trod, in faithful following Thee, 
And for the good fight foughten well — and closed right valiantly! 

" I bless Thee for the hidden ones, who yet uphold Thy name, 
Who yet for Zion's King and Crown shall dare the death of shame — 
I bless Thee for the light that dawns even now upon my soul, 
And brightens all the narrow way with glory from the goal !* 

" The hour and power of darkness — it is fleeting fast away — 
Light shall arise on Scotland — a glorious gospel day — 
Woe ! woe ! to the opposers, they shall shrivel in His hand — 
Thy King shall yet appear for thee, thou covenanted land ! 

"I see a time of respite^-but the people will < ot bow — 
I see a time of judgment — even a darker time than now- 
Then Lord uphold Thy faith ul ones — as now Thou dost uphold — 
And feed them, as Thou still hast fed, Thy chosen flock of old ! 

" The glory! the glory ! it is bursting on my sight, 

Lord! thy poor vessel is too frail for all this blinding light ! 

Now let Thy good word be fulfilled, and let Thy kingdom come, 

And, Lord, even in Thine own best time, take thy poor servant home!" 

Upon the wild and lone Airsmoss, down sank the twilight grey, 
In storm and cloud the evening closed upon that cheerless day ; 
But Peden went his way refreshed, for peace and joy were given — 
And Cameron's grave had proved to him the very gate of heaven ! 

* Peden was believed by many to possess the gift of prophecy. 



ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG IiADY. 

[From the N. Y. True American, Nov. 25 1854.] 

Lines written on the untimely death of Miss J , of Dublin, who perished on 

board the ill-fated United States Mail Steamer Jlrctic, which sank within four hours aftor 
being ran into (while going at the rate of 13 knots an hour, through a dense fog without 
giving any alarm signals) by the French screw propeller Vesta, oft Cape Race, on the 27th 
of September, 1854, during the passage from Liverpool to New York. 

Leaves hive their time to fall, 
And flowers to wither at the North-wind's breath, 

And stars to set — but all, 
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, Oh, Death ! 

Msa. HuMAua. 



She sleepeth now on the ocean's breast, 
By the dark Atlantic's wave, 

Where lies the pride of many a heart, 
Entombed in a water, grave. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 139 

No fond memorial marks the place, 

To tell where her form was laid, — 
No friendly hearts by her grave shall stand. 

To show their affection paid. 

Her winding sheet was the ocean-spray — 

Her tomb was the ocean deep — 
O'er her resting place the ocean waves, 

Her requiem ever shall keep. 

Methinks I look on the quarter deck, 

And see its full freight of life, 
So soon to fall by the fatal shock, 

In the depth of ocean strife, 

Her form was seen in that hopeless throng, 

There gathered in mute despair, 
While the march of death came steadily on, 

And the grave was opening there. 

When the vessel went finally o'er, 

There arose one piercing cry, 
But the dull monotonous sea roll'd on, 

Where death was hovering nigh. 

In the watery depths there resteth now 

The hopes of many a year, 
Which live no more in the hearts of those, 

There laid on an ocean bier. 

How sad was the fate for one so young, 

In the midst of Life's gay morn, 
While happiest dreams of future joy, 

The mind did ever adorn. 

How little we know the fate of an hour, 

That in the future may loom, 
To scatter our fondest hopes on earth, 

In clouds of heaviest gloom 



FRAGMENTS. 

FRIENDSHIP. 

Perhaps we ne'er shall meet again 
On this side of Jordan's shore, 

But may we live so as to meet 
Where troubles are no more. 

When far across the ocean wide 

In other lands I dwell, 
The distance ne'er shall rend the tie, 

Or break the magic spell. 



140 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 

But memory still shall fond recall 

Where'er my lot be east, 
The kindness thou has shown to me 

In days that are gone past. 

R. R. B. 



THE MOSS ROSE. 

Sweet rose ! thy grateful odors rise 
In praise of Him above, 
Who placed thee here to sympathise 
With beauty and with love. 

Thy form with fragrance fills the air 
With gentle sweetness round, 

Dispelling thoughts of toil and care, 
Where thou art ever found. 

R. R. B 

LIBERTY. 

Oh ! Liberty ! thrice sweet and glorious name, 
Thy praise is heard in every land the same. 
Beneath the shade of dark Oppression's throne, 
And in the dying Exile's parting groan, 
Wherever dwells a heart of noble worth, 
There thou art worshipped. 

R. R. B. 



THE SONGS OF OUR FATHERS. 

BY MRS. HEMANS. 

"S'tig a'oud 

Old songs the precious music of the heart." — Wordsworth 

Sing them upon the sunny hills, 

When days are long and bright, 
And the blue gleam of shining rills 

Is loveliest to the sight ! 
Sing them along the misty moor, 

Where ancient hnnters roved, 
And swell them through the torrent's roar, 

The songs our fathers loved ! 

The songs their souls rejoiced to hear 

When harps were in the hall, 
And each proud note made lance and spear 

Thrill on the bannered wall : 
The songs that through our valleys green 

Sent on from age to age, 
Like his own river's voice have been 

The peasant's heritage. 



ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. 141 

The reaper sings them wh n the vale 

Is filled with plumy sheaves ; 
The woodman by the starlight pale 

Cheered homeward through the leaves : 
And unto them the glancing oars 

A joyous measure keep ; 
Where the dark rocks crest our shore, 

Dash back the foaming deep. 

So let it be ! a light they shed 

On each old fount and grove, 
A memory of the gentle dead, 

A lingering spell of love. 
Murmuring the names of mighty men 

Thy bid our streams roll on, 
And link high thoughts to every glen, 

Where valiant deeds were done. 

Teach them your children round the house ; 

When evening fires burn clear, 
And in the fields of harvest mirth, 

And on the hills of deer : 
So shall each unforgotten word, 

When far those loved ones roam, 
Call back the hearts which oft it stirred, 

To childhood's holy home. 

The green woods of their native land 

Shall whisper in the strain, 
The voices of their household band 

Shall breathe their names again'; 
The heathery heights in vision rise, 

Where, like the stag ; they roved— 
Sing to your sons those melodies ; 

The songs your fathers loved I 



142 1ATS OK THB DL8IBR MINSTRELSY* 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

Pioualy transmit them to posterity.— Clarendon. 
' songs shall be heard in other times when the kings of Temora hare failed— OssiAS 
Familiar in their ears as household words.— Shakspbrs. 



THE SHUTTING OF THE GATES OF DERRY, 

REV. J. GRAHAM. 

Tune — " Auld Lang Syne." 

Full many a long wild winter's night, 

And sultry summer's day, , 

Are past and gone since Jamos took flight, 

From Derry walls away ; 
Cold are the hands that closed that gate 

Against the wily foe ; 
But here, to time's remotest date, 
Their spirit still shall glow, 

So here's a health to all good men, 

Now fearless friends are fe * ; 
But when we close our gates again, 
We'll then be all tiue blue 

Lord Antrim's men came down yon glen, 

With drums and trumpets gay ; 
Our 'prentice boys just heard the noise, 

And then prepared for play : 
While some opposed, the gates they closed. 

And joining hand in hand, 

Before the wall resolved to fall, 

Or for their freedom stand. 

When honor calls to Derry walla, 

The noble and the brave, 

Oh ! he that in the battle fallg 

Must find a hero's grave. 

Then came the hot and doubtful fray, 

With many a mortal wound ; 
While thousands in wild war's array 

Stood marshalled all around. 



LAY8 OF THE ULSTER MINSTREL6T. 14$ 

Each hill and plain was strewn with slain, 

The Foyle ran red with blood ; 

But all was vain the town to gain, 

Here William's standard stood. 

Renowned are those who face their foeB, 

As men and heroes should ; 
But let the sli»ve steal to his grave, 
Who fears to shed his blood. 

The matchless deeds of those who hero 

Defied the t> runt's frown, 
On history's br ght rolls appear 

Emblazoned in renown : 
Here deathless Walker's faithful word 

Sent hosts against the foe ; 
And gallant Murray's bloody sword, 
The Gallic Chief laid low. 

We honor those heroic dead, 

Their glorious memory: 
May we, who stand here in their gtcadj 
As wise ana valiant be ! 

Oh ! sure a heart of stone would melt, 

The socncs onc6 Lore to soe ; 
And witness all our fathers felt, 

To make their country free. 
They saw the lovely matron's cheek, 

With want and terror pale ; 
They heard the child's expiring shriek, 
Float on the passing gale ! 

} et here they stood, in field and blood, 

As battle raged around ; 
Resolved to die, till victory, 

Their purple standard crowned. 

The sacred rights these heroes gainedl 

In many a hard-fought day, 
Shall they by us be still maintained, 

Or basely cast away 1 
Shall rebels vile rule o'er our isle, 

And call it all their own 1 
Oh, surely no! the faithless foe, 
Must bend before the throne. * 

Then here's a health to all good mea* 

To all good me and true ; 
And when we close our gates again, 
We'll then be all true blue. 



144 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MIN8TRELST. 

THE RELIEF OF DERRY. 

EEV. JOHN GRAHAM. 

Tune — " My ain kind dearie, 0." 

The gloomy hour of trial's o'er, 

No longer cannons rattle, O ; 
The tyrant's flag is seen no more, 

And James has lost the battle, 0. 
And here we are, renowned and free, 

By maiden walls surrounded, ; 
While all the knaves who'd make U3 slaves, 

Are baffled and confounded, 0. 

The Dartmouth spreads her snow-white sail, 

Her purple pendant flying, 0, 
While we the gallant Browning hail, 

Who saved us all from dying, 0. 
Like Noah's dove, sent from above, 

While foes would starve and grieve us 0, 
Through floods and flame, an angel came, 

To comfort and relieve us, 0. 

Oh ! when the vossel struck the boom, 

And pitched, and reeled, and stranded, 0. 
With shouts the foe denounced our doom. 

And open gates demanded, ; 
And shrill and high arose the cry, 

Of anguish, grief and pity, : 
While, black with care, and deep despair, 

We mourned our falling city, 0. 

But, Heaven her guide, with one b oadside 

The laden bark rebounded, ; 
A favoring gale soon filled the sail, 

While hills and vales resounded 0. 
The joy-bells ring, " Long live our king," 

Adieu to grief and sadness j 
To heaven we raise the voice of praise, 

In heartfelt joy and gladness, 0. 

.' 
I 

THE MAIDEN CITY. 

BV CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH. 

Tune—" Le Petit Tambour." 

Where Foyle his swelling waters 

Rolls northward to the main, 
Here, queen of Erin's daughters, 

Fair Derry fi™d her reign ; 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSy. 145 

A holy temple crowned her 

And commerce graced her street, 
A rampart wall was round her, 

The river at her feet. 
And here she sat alone, boys, 

And, looking from the hill, 
Vowed the maiden on her throne, boys, 

Would be a maiden still. 

From Antrim crossing over, 

In famous eighty eight, 
A plumed and belted lover* 

Came to the Ferry gate ; 
She summoned to defend her 

Our sires — a beardless race — 
They shouted " No surrender '" 

And slammed it in his face, 
Then, in a quiet tone, boys, 

They told him 'twas their will, 
That the maiden on her throne, boys, 

Should be a maiden still. 

Next, crushing all before him, 

A kingly wooerf came, 
(The royal banner o'er him, 

Blushed crimson deep for shame :) 
He showed the pope's commission, 

Nor dreamed to be refused, 
She pitied his condition, 

But begged to stand excused, 
In short, the fact is known, boys, 

She chased him from the hill, 
For the maidon on her throne, boys, 

Would be a maiden still. 

On our brave sires descending, 

'Twas then the tempest broke, 
Their peaceful dwellings rending 

'Mid blood, and flame, and smoke. 
That hallowed grave-yard yonder, 

Swells with the slaughtered dead. 
Oh, brothers, pause and ponder, 

It was for us they bled ! 
And while their gift we own, boys, 

The fane that tops our hill, 
Oh ! the maiden on her throne, boys, 

Shall be a maiden still. 

Nor wily tongue shall move us, 
Nor tyrant arm affright, 
* Lord Antrim. t King James* 



146 LAYS OF TUB ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

We'll look to One above us, 

Who ne'er forsook the right : 
Who will may crouch and tender 

The birthright of the free, 
But, brothers, " No Surrender,' 

No compromise for me ! 
We want no barrier stone, 003*6, 

No gates to guard the hill, 
Yet the maiden on her throne, boys, 

Shall be a maiden still, 



THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.* A. D. 1690 

BY COLONEL BLACKER. 

It was upon a summer's morn, unclouded rose the sun, 
And lighty o'er the waving corn their way the breezes won ; 
Sparkling beneath that orient beam, 'mid banks of verdure gay, 
Its eastward course a silver stream held smilingly away. 

A kingly host upon its side a monarch camped around, 
Its southern upland far and wide their white pavilions crowned, 
Not long that sky unclouded showed, nor long beneath the ray, 
That gentle stream in silver flowed, to meet the new-born day, 

Through yonder fairy haunted glen,f from out that dark ravine, 
Is heard the tread of marching men, the gleam of arms is seen ; 
And plashing forth in bright array along yon verdant banks, 
All eager for the coming fray, are ranged the martial ranks. 

Peals the loud gun, its thunders boom the echoing vales along, 
While curtained in its sulphurous gloom moves on the gallant throng ; 
And foot and horse in mingled mass, regardless all of life, 
With furious ardor onward pass to join the deadly strife. 

* This river has been hallowed by events the most interesting in our country's annals. 
So memorable in ancient history, and so rich iu monuments o( the past is it, that we fear 
not to assert that the history of Ireland may be written on its banks. ***** 
Scarcely a ford upon this river, but was disputed in days gone by — every pass was a 
Thermopylae ; and scarcely a knoll, or mouud, or rock, or bank, but still retains its le- 
gend. * * * * The plains of Meidbe, and the flowery fields of Breghia, through 
which the Boyne flows, appear to have been the first cultivated in Ireland ; and it is 
more than probable that one of the earliest waves of population passed up the stream of 
this great river, settled upon its banks, and left, their bones iu the numerous barrows and 
tumuli still remaining upon its shores. Beyond all doubt, the earliest authentic kings 
of Erin reigned upon its banks where also the earliest laws were framed, the earliest 
poems sung, and the most profound druidical mysteries enacted. Soldiers and sages, 
bards and Brehons. have commemorated many of its localities ; the romance of Irish his- 
tory is laid amidst the scenery of this river, and much of the imagery of our earliest poets 
was drawn from this fertile source. Patri k first landed at the Moj ne's mouth, and raised 
the beacon of tho cross at Slane; his first eermonB were preached, and his first conversions 
took place, 

Where in vlelightful streams, 

The Boyne, the darling of the ocean, flows. 
Foreign invaders, the Dane and the Norseman, first enteied this kingdom on its waters. 
The earliest seats of learning, and the most renowned schools of Christian philosophy 
which our annalists record, had their seats by its margin ; parliaments and councils were 
held in its castles ; and U„ 6 loins. '<:. l,«tt'.;.- fought by kings, were lost and won upon Its 
banks. — Dublin University Magazine. 

tKing William's glen near Townley-hall. 



LAYS OP THE ULSTER MIXSTHELSY. 147 

Nor strange that with such ardent flame each glowing heart beats high. 
Their battle word was William's name, and " Death or Liberty :" 
Then, Oldbridge, then thy peaceful bowers with sounds unwonted rang, 
And Tredagh, mid thy distant towers, was heard the mighty clang. 

The silver stream is crimsoned wide, and clogged with many a corse, 
As floating down its gentle tide, come mingled man and horse ; 
Now fiercer grows the battle's rage, the guarded stream is crossed, 
And furious, hand to hand engage each bold contending host. 

He falls, tho veteran hero falls,* renowned along the Rhine, 
And he,f whose name, while Derry's walls endure, shall brightly shine ; 
Oh ! would to Heaven that churchman bold, his arms with triumph blessed, 
The soldier spirit had controlled that fired his pious breast. 

And he, the chief of yonder brave and persecuted band, 
Who foremost rushed amid the waves, and gained the hostile strand : 
He bleeds brave Caillemote, J he bleeds, 'tis closed, his bright career, 
Yet still that band to glorious deeds his dying accents cheer, 

And now that well contested strand successive columns gain, 
While backward James's yielding band are borne across the plain ; 
In vain the sword green Erin draws, and life away doth fling, 
Oh ! worthy of a better cause and of a bolder king. 

In vain thy bearing bold is shown upon that bloodstained ground ; 
Thy towering hopes aie overthrown, thy choicest fall around ; 
Nor, shamed, abandon thou the fray, nor blush, though conquered there— 
A power jg..iiist thee fights to-day, no mortal arm may dare. 

Nay, look not to that distant height in hope of coming aid, 
The dastard thence has ta'en his flight, and left thee all betrayed ; 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! the victor shout is heard on high Donore; 
Down Platten's vale, in hurried rout, thy shattered masses pour. 

But many a gallant spirit there retreats across the plain, 
Who, change but kings, would gladly dare that battle field again ;§ 
Enough! enough! the victor cries ; your fierce pursuit forbear, 
Let grateful prayer to Heaven arise, and vanquished freemen spare. 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! for liberty, lor he the sword we drew, 
And dared the battle, while on high our Orange banners flew ; 
Woe worth the hour, woe worth the state, when men shall cease to join 
With grateful hearts to celebrate the glories of the Boyne. 



* Duke Schomberg. 
t Wiilker, the delender of Derry. 
| I he commander of a regiment of French Protestants. 
§ This alludes to the expression attributed to Sarsfield; " only change 
kings, and we'll fight the battle over again." 



2<$ft LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

THE DEATH OF SCHOMBERG. A. D. 1690. 

BY DIGBY PILOT STARKEY. 

["Frederick Schonberg, or Schornberg, first developed his warlike talents undei 
<&e comma d of Henry and William 11, of Orange; afterwards obtained severa: 
ketones over the Spaniards ; reinstated on the throne the house of Braganza ; de- 
feated in England the last hopes of the Stuarts ; and finally died at the advanced 
age of eighty-two, at the battle of the Boyne, in 1690."] 

'Twas on the day when kings did fight beside the Boyne's dark water, 
And thunder roared from every height, and earth was red with slaughter ; 
That morn an aged chieftain stood apart from mustering bands, 
And, from a height that crowned the flood, surveyed broad Erin's lands. 



His har.d upon his sword-hilt leaned, his war-horse stood ' 

And an \ iously his eyes were bent across the rolling tide ; 

Me thought of what a changeful fate had borne him from the land 

"Where frowned his father's castle-gate,* high o'er the Rhenish strand, 

And placed before his opening view, a realm where strangers bled, 
Where he, a leader, scarcely knew the tongue of those he led ; 
Be looked upon his chequered life, from boyhoods' earliest time, 
Through scenes of tumult and of strife, endured in every clime — 

To where the snows of eighty years usurped the raven's stand, 
And still the din was in his cars, the broad-sword in his hand . 
He turned him to futurity beyond the battle plain, 
jBi&fc then a shadow from on high, hung o'er the heaps of slain. 

And through the darkness of the cloud, the chief's prophetic glance 
Beheld with winding sheet and shroud, his fatal hour advance ; 
He quailed not, as he felt him near the inevitable stroke, 
]Sut, dashing off one rising tear, 'twas thus the old man spoke : 

w Sod of my fathers ! death is nigh, my soul is not deceived, 
My hour is come, and I would die, the conqueror I have lived : 
For Thee, for Freedom, have I stood — for both I fall to day, 
■Qive me but victory for my blood, the price I gladly pay, 

* Forbid the future to restore a Stuart's despot gloom, 
Or that, by freemen dreaded more, the tyranny of Rome ! 
iProm either curse, let Erin freed, as prosperous ages run, 
Acknowledge what a glorious deed upon this day was done !" 

He said— tate granted half his prayer, his steed he straight bestrode, 

And fell, as on the routed rear of James's host he rode ; 

He sleeps in a cathedral's gloom, f amongst the mighty dead ; 

And frequent o'er his hallowed tomb, redeedful pilgrims tread : 

The other half, though fate deny, we'll strive for, one and all, 

And William's, Schomberg's spirits nigh, we'll gain, or fighting fall ! 

* Sfe&cnberg, or "the mount of beauty," is one of the most magnificent of the many 
anwrainous castles that overhang the Rhine. It had been the residence of the chiefs of 
» tu&ie family of that name, which existed as far back as the time of Charlemagne, and of 
-vMil&ihe Duke of Schornberg was a member, 
f St. Patrick's, Dublin. 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 



149 



THE RELIEF OF LEYDEN. 1574. 

In the clays of the olden time, when the spirits of men were strong, 
And a few in a righteous cause would defy an opposing throng, 
From the might of the hosts of Spain, there was won an unsullied crown, 
By the hands of the burghers bold— by the men of the ancient town 
Of Leyden upon the Rhine. 

For a false and tyrant king would have rent their old rights away, 
And the Inquisition dark, both body and soul would slay, 
Till, throughout all the Netherlands, neither action nor thought was free ; 
Ha ! they rose in their thousands then, by the shores of the northern sea, 
And William of Orange was chief. 

And the Spaniards like locusts came, and were spread over all the land, 

And the burghers were all unskilled to encounter them hand to hand ; 

But their ramparts were stout and high, and were held by a fearless 

throng, 
And behind them the freemen fought, and guarded their homes from wrong, 
In spite of the Spanish hosts. 

And fully twenty thousand souls in old Leyden were closely pent, 
And the leaguer had lasted long, till the whole of their food was spent; 
For the foeman with many a tower had girded the city about, 
So that none could break through and bear the sad tale to their friends with- 
out, 

Or bring a relief within, 
And when famine had pinched them sore, and they died from want in the 

stret ; 
For the grass and the weeds on the wall were all they had left to eat ; 
And the Spaniards summoned them then, for they knew of their woful plight ; 
"While ther.'s flesh on one arm for food, with the other we'll dure the 

fight," 

Replied the bold burghers back. 

But the news to the chieftain came, by a carrier pigeon sent, 

And the hearts of the brave beat high, as to succor the town he went ; 

But his forces were all too few; so he broke down the ocean banks, 

Till the long waves came leaping in, and they scattered the Spanish ranks, 

So Leyden was saved from war. 
But the billows had shut them up, and the famine still raged amain, 
And they sank and tney died for want, on the shore of the watery plain ; 
And a fleet of two hundred saj», deep laden with stores for food, 
Could not reach the o'er-famished throng, for the blustering winds with- 
stood, 

And kept back the rising tide. 
And two days did they watch and wait, while the wind from the Northward 

blew ; . . . 

4nd they sank and they died for want, with the ships of their friends in view; 
But a change on the third day came, for the strong winds had veered about, 
And the ships came careering on with many a sturdy shout, 

And many a feeble cheer. 



150 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

They were saved ! and with joyful hearts, they gave thanks unto God on 

high, 
Who had sent their good prince with help, when the yoke or the grave was 

nigh ; • 

And the fight of the free was won, for the Spanish had fled away, 
And the Orange was waving proud, on the ramparts and turrets grey 
Of Leyden upon the Rhine. 
Lisburn. L. D. 



THE SPANISH ARMADA. AD. 1588. 

[Philip of Spain, having long meditated the destruction of England, and the extermina- 
tion of the Protestant religion, determined on an invasion. The fleet was ostentatiously 
called " the invincible armada." We refer to the subjoined ballad for an account of the 
termination of the enterprise.] 

"Rank out ! rank out, ye burghers bold ! rank out, ye yeomen true ! 
Ho! gallant squires and royal knights, there's work for you to do : 
And ye stout barons of the land, brace on your armor bright, 
The Spanish fleet is on the main — now God defend the right ! 

And rushing steed and beacon blaze the warlike tidings sped, 
And north and south, and east and west, the stern alarum spread ; 
And village green and castle court rang with the quick array, 
And joyously the English ships dashed out from Plymouth bav. 

With haughty hopes, and purpose fell, the dread armada came, 
For papal lips had hallowed it, and fixed its boastful name ; 
And Jesuit sly, and cowled friar, and shaven monk were there, 
Deep versed in every butcher art, in every priestly snare. 

And seven-score ships, both strong and tall, were sailing on the main, 
Well stuffed with Romish racks and screws, and cavaliers of Spain ; 
And as they reached the Lizard point, their squadron they extend, 
And stretched away in crescent huge, seven miles from end to end. 

But gallant Howard 'countered them in all their grim array, 
Though eighty ships were all the force old England had that day. 
Yet fearlessly, right on their foes, the daring seamen steered, 
And loud their cheers mag o'er the sea as still " the dons " they Beared. 

And first with fire-ships drifting down, to trample them he strove, 
Then full on their disordered line the " Royal Ark " he drove ; 
And while before his booming shot the van gave way in fear, 
Still Hawkins, Drake, and Frobisher were thundering on their rear. 

And all along the narrow seas for eighteen days they sped, 
And still the English warriors chased, and still the Spaniards fled : 
Like swallows from the swooping hawk, so fled the foe away, 
Till Howard drove their shattered ships up beyond Berwick bay. 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 151 

The strife of men was over, the din of battle slept ; 
But down upon the crippled fleet the wrath of heaven stept ; 
'Gainst rushing wind and dashing surge, the seamen toiled in vain, 
And soon beneath the raging seas was whelmed the pride of Spain. 

Away, away by western isles, away by Irish shores, 
Where struggling 'mid the jagged rocks the chafed Atlantic roars, 
Lie, tempest-scattered, on the strand, the warlike hopes of Rome, 
Their requiem the breakers' wrath, their shroud the ocean foam. 

In vain the ceaseless mass they sing, in vain along the steep 

Of Finisterre, the anxious watch look out across the deep ; 

The boastings of the proud are stilled, the mighty are laid low, 

For Heaven has fought on England's side, and crushed her haughty foe. 

Now glory give to God on high, who saved our church and state 
From Rome's degrading tyranny and Philip's jealous hate ; 
And honor to our good Queen Bess, and honor ever more, 
To Howard, lord of Effingham, and all who guard our shore. 

L. D. 



BATTLE OF LISNAGARVEY. 

Fair art thou, Lisnagarvey ! and fair thy happy homes ; 

And faithful are thy sons in peace, and staunch when danger comes : 

And o'er thee yet is floatirg free, the banner of the blue ; 

Though changed thy name, thou'rt still the same— the stronghold 6\ the true. 

Two hundred years are past and gone since all along the tide 

Of blood-stained Bann, the murderers were mustering in their prid«. 

And Newry's towers had fallen, and treason had success, 

And scarce a gleam of hope was seen the loyal hearts to bless, 

And slaughter fierce was rioting o'er all the hills of Down, 
And shot and shriek were mingling thick in every conquered town 
Nor sex, nor age, nor plighted faith, from treachery could save, 
And the name of Protestants became the passport to the grave. 

But still o'er Lisnagarvey the royal banner flew, 

And still in Lisnagarvey stout hands the falchion drew ; 

Oh! still in Lisnagarvey a home the loyal found, 

And peace was there, and holy prayer, while murder raged around 

The Red O'Neil his standard raised, and summoned all his men : 
And kerns and galloglasses poured from every mountain glen ; 
And stern Maginnis brought from Down, his trained warrior band, 
Eager for prey, athirst to slay, they trooped on every hand ! 

Then marshalling their grim array, the leaders deeply swore, 
To sweep the name of Protestant from ofif the northern shore ; 
And soon on Carrickfergus keep to plant their banner green, 
But vain the boast, for all their host— old Lisburn lay between ! 



152 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

'Twas on a Sunday morning, just as the daylight broke, 

The pealing horn round fair Brookhill each rugged kern awoke j 

And mass was said in eager haste, and on the rebels hied, 

To crush the few, the staunch and true, who durst their coming bide. 

'• O'Neil ! the red hand for the right !" " Maginnis for Iveagh !" 

Eight thousand voices ringing loud, upswell the fierce hurrah ; 

" For church and king !" " for church and king !" " we trust in God on high V 

With weaker shouts, but hearts full stout, the Protestants reply. 

To north and south, about the town, two columns took their course, 
While ranked upon the warren, stood the main strength of their force ; 
And up from Lagan's farthest bank they made the first attack — 
The bridge is crossed, the pass is lost, the loyalists give back. 

Back ! for a moment — thick and fast adown the narrow street, 
With crushing blow and grinding stroke, the deadly foemen meet ; 
And scarce a shot is heard to ring, so close the fight they ply, 
Till soon o'erborne, and all forlorn, away the rebels fly. 

Then, baffled and repulsed sore, they feared to venture in, 
But still with bullet-shower they strive their scanty foes to thin ; 
And thus, opposed the livelong day, in battle range they stand, 
While skirmish hot and scattering, harassed the loyal band. 

The night closed in, but Phelim still prolonged the hopeless fight, 
While cannon's flash and mansion's blaze gave out a fearful light ; 
But nobly still the Protestants maintained their fearful post, 
Till far away, ere break of day, had slunk the rebel host. 

Not unto us, not unto us, oh God ! but unto thee, 

The honor and the high renown of our deliverance be ; 

Our strength were nought, a l nd all in vain our weapons might we bear, 

But on our side thou didst abide, and break our foemen's snare. 

And dearly still within our hearts, the memories shall dwell, 
Of Rawdon and stout Tyringham, who led us on so well ; 
But chief of those, our comrades dear, who in the battle died, 
To save their home from haughty Rome, and stern rebellion's tide. 

Fair fall thee, Lisnagarvey ! old bulwark of the north !" 
May thy stout sons still emulate their gallant fathers' worth ; 
And o' er thee stainless wave for aye the banner of the blue ! 
Though changed thy name, be thou the same, the stronghold of the true ! 

L. D. 



THE GATHERING OF THE NORTH. August, 1845. 

Good men and true, that wear the blue, 'tis time that ye come forth, 

And '• reck them rede " our homestead breed throughout " the canny north ;'* 

And tell them yet who fain forget the gallant blood of yore, 

They yet may see it "do or dree," what hath been, be once more. 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 153 

Where Antrim wakes its " lake of lakes," its giant column rears, 
From Bann's white tide, and Lagan's side, now rich with golden spears, 
(From bigot strife with hunted life the Huguenot fled here) 
Now from their hold come yeomen bold and stalwart mountaineer. 

M The maiden town " will send us down a brave and loyal band, 
Though shorn be now her fearless brow, that guards our northern strand.; 
Good men and true, to dare and do, from Garvagh and Coleraine ; 
When spurred by wrong, the heart is strong -God teach you to refrain. 

Where the foiled sea rocks in its glee indented Donegal, 
By lough and lake her sons awake and gather to our call : 
But no ! not sleep, 'twas thine to keep, we only " bide the time," 
'Twill not be long till rampart wrong has ripened to its prime. 

Fermanagh ! thou art gathering now — stern spirits thou hast bred, 
Woe to the snake, whose shiny streak coils through the grass they tread-; 
Tyrone ! thy tide, the true and tried, is pouring down, I ween, 
Like the fierce blast that rushes past old Tyrell's hills of green. 

And loyal Down ! from shire and town right welcome thou shalt be ! 
In beauty rare, how passing fair Rosstrevor crowns the lea ! 
And Newry "leal," come woe or weal, will "telegraph" again, 
The coming brunt and noble front of the freeborn northern men, 

Armagh ! in speed send to our need thy sinew, blood, and bone, 
With spirit high, in heart and eye, to hold to death our own ; 
And Monaghan, though last not least, send forth unto their post, 
But one in ten of thy brave men to crown our northern host. 

And now we stand on this green land, and under heaven's blue dome, 
God grant the prayer ! each true man here, go bloodless, scatheless home-. 
But first we clasp in brother-grasp a fearless loyal band, 
Our faith to plight to hold the right for God and native land. 

We ask no broil our foes to foil, we brook their insults base, 
How hard the task, they need but ask, the records of our race ; 
The "Diamond" fight will tell them right, the banks of sullied Bann, 
Unless forgot, they'll tempt us not " to bob it o'er again." 

Each rank we sink in brother-link, the true old blood is here, 

None base but they who would betray the righteous cause and dear ; 

They said 'twas cold, the blood of old, the spirit of our sires, 

But here's to you, good men and true, whose hearts retain their fires." 

But oh ! we boast a higher trust, and better weapons wear, 
They taunt us still " the Bible men," would that in truth we were I 
So help us God on this green sod we pray a faithful prayer— 
Thy peace bestow on friend and foe, and teach us to forbear ! 



154 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

THE ULSTER YEOMEN'S REMONSTRANCE. 

[These verses are the expression, however inadequate, of the feeling of the yeomanry 
of Ulster, on the attempt to deprive them of their tenant-right, an attempt unexampled 
in the annals of social fraud. Upon the settlement of Ulster, by James I., the tenure of 
the yeomanry was intended as clearly as that of the landlords. Indeed, the twelfth arti- 
cle of the conditions of the plantation distinctly stipulated for such tenures. The land- 
lords, however, evaded the article, and the spirit of clanship which pervaded the tenantry 
prevented the latter ever fearing the attempt which is now threatened to deprive tin m of 
their right. Accordingly, the rather anomalous custom of selling the tenancy-at-will has 
prevailed since the plantation, and certainly, if ever a prescription was just, this one is ; 
and, although there is the strong opinion of no less an authoriiy than Sir James Graham, 
that the prescription is not good in law, its foundation is incomparably clearer than that 
of those rights which generally rest on the legal doctrine of prescription.] 

What is this right your new-made laws demand of us to yield 1 
The right to live like Christian men, not oxen of the field ; 
To feel we, freemen, tread the land, our freemen fathers trod — 
The right to lift, at kirk and church, unfettered hands to God. 

We have been kinsmen of your blood, and clansmen to your name ; 
No bond we asked but nobles' words when to this land we came ; 
And now our rights, but favors none, we're seeking at your hands ; 
We gave our yeomen services — we'll keep our yeomen lands. 

They tell us Tipperary boasts far kindlier meads than ours 
That fairer valleys spread beneath grey Cashel's sainted towers ; 
Where hoary keep and meadow green the Royal Shannon laves, 
God's hand more bountiful hath been, but men to men are slaves. 

They tell us those who lord it there, their fellows have down-trod, 
Not caring that which they deface, the image is of God ; 
That, in their pride and avarice, they laugh His word to scorn, 
Who bids them " muzzle not the ox that treadeth out the corn." 

Was it for fate like this, my lords, our people crossed the sea, 

From Mall's and O'Donnell's swords your race's guard to be ? 

Did for such serfdom many a year our yeomen fathers strive 

Prom wolf, from woodkerne,* and from want, to save your souls alive ? 

Beware, lest by our chimney nooks we trace our annals back, 
And see of our stout hands and hearts how dire has been your lack, 
And think that with our hoi cause, and with our courage true, 
We might for our own race, have done what we have done for you. 

Think ye we from our fathers heard no -tales of days gone by, 
When side by side with yours they met the "Iri-she enemie," 
Ere country had forgotten been, and clanship had grown cold, 
And every man was weighed, as now, but by his weight in gold ? 

When on the trackless woods sank down the long December night, 
And Slemish and Slievegallon's heads with Christmas snow were white, 
And through the drift, with gleaming skeines, the vengeful kern came on, 
What men were they, in such an hour, whose right hands kept the bawne?f 

* The name of the common Irish who had been left by O'Niall's wars in a state of 
great want and degradation. " Sir Toby Caulfield's people,'' says Blannerbasset, in 1610, 
"are driven every night to lay up his cattle, as it were, in ward, and. do he and his what 
they can, the woolfe and the woodkerne within culivershot of his fort, have oftentimes 
their share." 

t Bawne was the name given to the square keeps erected by the first British settlers in 
Ulster. 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 155 

And when that dread Allhallow-tide,* at awful evening's close, 
From Erne's lake to Antrim town the blood-red fires arose, 
And out of captured town and bawne, and over vale and heath, 
From woman's lips the midnight wind bore on the shriek of death 

Who rallied round your walls and towers that 'night of fear and woe, 
With hearts all bleeding for the dead, but fearless of the foe ; 
And fought till Cromwell came at last, after long years of toil, 
To smite the murderer in his blood, the robber with his spoil 1 

Bethink ye well before je try to grind us down to earth ; 
The hands that kept a hostile land can keep a yeoman's hearth. 
We look around our hills and vales — are recollections there 
Of failure or defeat to bid our fathers' sons despair 1 

Derry frowns, " unsurrendered yet," where Foyle and ocean join; 
Proud as of yore looks down Donore upon the storied Boyne : 
Dungannon still uprears its spire against the vault of blue, 
As when waved glorious in its choir, the flags of '82. 

The ploughman's share each Spring lays bare the bones of Antrim field : 
Tell us, have memories such as i hese but taught our hearts to yield ? 
And, ere by fraud ye take the right our toil repays again, 
From past days learn this lesson stern — Beware the Ulster men ! 

Anon. 



OLIVER'S ADVICE. 

BY COLONEL BLACKER. 

The night is gathering gloomily, the day is closing fast, 

The tempest flaps his raven wings in loud and angry blast; 

The thunder clouds are driving athwart the lurid sky, 

But, " put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry." 

There was a day when loyalty was hailed with honor due, 
Our banner the protection waved to all the good and true, 
And gallant hearts beneath its folds were linked in honor's tie, 
We put our trust in God, my boys, and kept our powder dry. 

When treason bared her bloody arm, and maddened round the land, 
For king and laws, and order fair, we drew the ready brand i 
Our gathering spell was William's name, our word was " Do or die," 
And still we put our trust in God, and kept our powder dry. 

But now, alas ! a wondrous change has come the nation o'er, 
And worth and gallant services remembered are no more, 
And crushed beneath oppression's weight, in chains of grief we lie, 
But put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

The Irish massacre of 1641 began on the eve of Allhaliows, in that year- 



150 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

Forth start the spawn of treason, the 'scaped of ninety-eight, 

To bask in courtly favor, and seize the helm of state ; 

E'en they whose hands are reeking yet with murder's crimson dye — 

But put your trust in God. my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

They come, whose deeds incarnadined the Slaney's silver wave, 
They come, who to the foreign foe the hail of welcome gave ; 
He comes, the open rebel fierce, he comes the Jesuit sly ; 
But put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

They come, whose counsels wrapped the land in foul rebellious flame, 
Their hearts unchastened by remorse, their cheeks untinged by shame : 
Be still, be still, indignant heart, be tearless, too, each eye, 
And put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry, 

The Power that led his chosen, by pillared cloud and flame, 
Through parted sea, and desert waste, that Power is still the same : 
He fails not ; He, the loyal hearts, that firm on Him rely, 
So put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

The Power that nerved the stalwart arm of Gideon's chosen few, 

The Power that led great William, Boyne's reddening torrent through, 

In His protecting aid confide, and every foe defy, 

Then put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

Already see the star of hope emits its orient blaze, 

The cheering beacon of relief it glimmers through the haze ; 

It tells of better days to come, it tells of succor nigh, 

Then put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

See, see along the hills of Down its rising glories spread, 
But brightest beams its radiance from Donard's lofty head;* 
Clanbrassil's vales are kindling wide, and " Roden " is the cry, 
Then put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

Then cheer ye, hearts of loyalty, nor sink in dark despair, 

Our banner shall again unfold its glories to the air ; 

The storm that raves the wildest, the soonest passes by . 

Then put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

For "happy homes," for "altars free," we grasp the ready sword, 
For freedom, truth, and for our God's unmutilated uord ; 
These, these, the war-cry of our march, our hope, the Lord on high ; 
Then put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry. 

* Lord Roden resides at the base of Slieve Donard. 



157 LAVS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

ULSTER, TO THE RESCUE. 

Tune — " Le Petit Tambour." 

The dou' ling drum is sounding, 

All o'er the loyal north ; 
And faithful hearts are bounding, 

As its summons bids them forth ; 
And our fathers' flag is flying, 

Aloft in blazoned pride ; 
And fearless men are hieing, 

To rank them by its side. 

And Down's green vales are ringing 

With loyal sounds once more, 
To Antrim echo flinging 

From cliff and rocky shore ; 
For Derry's ancient slogan 

Is pealing to the sky, 
And Bann gives back the token — 

" We conquer or we die." 

And stern Lough Erne is bounding, 

In answer to the call ; 
And stout Tyrone resounding, 

Wakes rocky Donegal : 
And all along the border, 

Of Cavan's flre-tried land, 
Ranks in unbroken order, 

A firm devoted band. 

And the " Diamond " bright is blazing, 

'Mid champions of the truth ; 
And the gathering cry is raising 

The scatterers of Truagh ; 
And loud — hurrah ! and louder ! 

O'er plain and inland wave, 
Rings forth a summons prouder, 

Than ever monarch gave. 

The motto of our glory ! 

The battle word of old ! 
The boast of Orange story ! 

The 'prentice answer bold, 
Rings loud — hurrah! rings louder ! 

O'er plain and inland wave, 
A mustering summons prouder, 

Than ever monarch gave, 

And no.v, God bless the yeomen, 
In Ulster's happy homes; 

God shield them from their foemen, 
Uphold when danger comes. 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTKELST. 158 

May the Orange still united, 

With their fathers' sturdy blue, 
By faction's breath unblighted, 

Wave o'er their legions true. 

From statesmen, treason veiling, 

'Neath false and hollow smiles : 
From hearts, in honor failing, 

Or won by Jesuit wiles ; 
From fear, when danger gathers, 

Or rebels venture forth ; 
Oh ! Helper of our fathers! 

Guard thou the loyal north, 
Lisburn. Leamh Dhear« 



TIIE CHARTER SONG OF THE WATSON ORANGE 
LODGE, No. 356. 

Tune — " Auld Lang Syne." 

In darkness long our flag has lain, 

But on its silken fold, 
Nor falsehood's blot, nor treason's stain, 

Has ever fixed a hold : 
For strong the warp, and true the dye, 

That formed its blazon bright ; 
And vain was envy's purchased lie, 

And vain oppression's blight. 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! it meets the day ! 

'Neath sun or storm the same : 
And on its fold, full fair enrolled, 

Shines Watson's honored name. 

They thought that northern men forgot, 

The deeds of days gone by ; 
That northern men remembered not 

Their ancient rallying cry; 
But Antrim has good men, and true, 

Whose spirits freedom fires ; 
And Orangemen will still renew 

The watchwords of their sires. 
Loyal our cause, as e'er it was ; 

In weal or woe, the same : 
And all in vain they sought to stain 

Our Watson's honored name. 

Then while the foes of truth combine, 

And rank their legions vast, 
And boast their strength in battle line, 

Oh ! let them read the past ! 



159 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY* 

And learn how our brave fathers fought, 

And crushed their vauntings then ; 
And Derry, Lisnagarvey taught 

The might of free-born men. 
Our blood the same with theirs who came 

Victors from Aughrim field ; 
And freemen born, like them we scorn, 

To popish slaves to yield, 

Brother with brother, here we join, 

Brother with brother bold ; 
Hand grasped in hand, as through the Boyne, 

Our fathers marched of old. 
Pledged to each other to be true, 

By all our hearts hold dear : 
The foemen throng, though friends are few., 

Nor wiles, nor threats we fear 
But scorn them all, whate'er befall, 

In weal or woe the same , 
And to the last, for all that's passed, 

"We'll honor Watson's name. 

Ours is no politician's wile, 

We know not how to bend ; 
No treasons our bright cause defile, 

We rise but to defend : 
And for the rights that yet remain, 

Of those our fathers won, 
And by the hopes our hearts retain 

Of better days begun ; 
Brothers we stand— hand grasped in hand, 

Like those who crossed the river ; 
And give once more the pledge of yore, 

"Three-fifty-six for ever !" 
Iiisburn. Leamh Dhears. 



THE OLD COMMODORE.* 

Tune — "Lucy Neal." 

I'll sing you an old ballad, though it may grieve you sore, 
Of a fine old country gentleman, known to you all before, 
How manfully he led the chase, though well nigh eighty-four, 
And fearlessly did leap the fence, the gallant Commodore ! 

Oh ! old Commodore, 

Oh ! brave Commodore, 
He was a fine old gentleman ! the gallant Commodore ! 

* James Watson, Esq. the worshipful master of the county Antrim, who was deprived 
of the magistracy for leading the Lisburn procession of '45, by Sir Robert Peel's govera- 
ment, is familiarly known as •' The old Commodore." 



100 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

And when our July meeting came, he led his Orange corps, 
For who'd have thought it anything without the Commodore 1 
And proudly did he stand that day, as in the days of yore, 
And proudly on his loyal breast, the Orange colors wore ! 
Oh ! old Commodore, &c. 

But when this came to Bobby's ears, he raged, and stamped and swore ; 
To think that he could bearded be by an Irish Commodore ! 
So down he sent his mittimus, James conned it o'er and o'er, 
Said he, " I'm still grand worshipfnl from Lough Neagh to Bengore-" 
Oh ! old Commodore, &c. 

Alas ! the old man he must die ! his loss we will deplore ; 
Yet let us trust the cause wont die, when Watson is no more ! 
And while its wondrous mysteries within our hearts we store, 
We will keep up three-fifty-six, for thy sake, Commodore ! 
Oh ! old Commodore, &c. 

N. G. 
Lisburn 



LIXES OX JOHX JEFFERSOX, SEX., ESQ,. 

Lines composed on the occasion of Jons Jefferson, Sen., Esq , Aughnahoe, being the last 
now living (March, 1852,) of the Lisburn Company of Cavalry, in 1798. 

The snows of more than eighty years has fallen on his head, 
And all the men, with whom he ranked, are numbered with the dead ; 
Of the Lisburn Corps of Cavalry, he now survives— the last — 
The only one remaining here, a witness of the past. 

His courage, when displayed, was of the most unflinching kind, 
Honor, honesty, and justice were centered in his mind; 
As the last oak of the forest, he remains in vigor strong, 
An heir of life, immortal — and of peace, enduring long. 

In seventeen-'ninety-eight, when the Papists had rebelled, 
The Orangemen convinced them that treason could be quelled ; 
When, during 'ninety-eight, the rebel standard was unfurled, 
The Cavalry and Yeomanry showed valor to the world. 

We should all remember still, with due appreciation, 

The mem'ries of the men, who were deliverers of the nation ; 

In sixteen 'eighty-eight, in 'ninety, and in famous 'ninety-eight— 

May the spirits of those heroes ever flourish in the Stat t ! 

There were some who joined the Papists, in fatal 'ninety-eight— 
Before that all was over, they repented, when too late ; 
For, who could e'er expect to find that Popery was sincere, 
Which sacrifices everything humanity holds dear . 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 161 

Past, are those days of trouble — but may soon return again — 
May Protestants, from joining in with Popery, refrain ! 
Then shall the power of Antichrist be crushed within this land, 
And truth will triumph everywhere with strong victorious hand. 

Then, as the western ocean's gem, shall Ireland be alway, 
"When gospel precepts over it exert their peaceful sway; 
This land shall then be flourishing, all glorious, great and free, 
A praise among the nations, from her centre to the sea. 

If we would " act but well our part, for there the honor lies," 
Our country, to prosperity, successfully would rise ; 
No more a byeword, and a proverb all the nations through 
She then would be, and that for aye, the stronghold of the true, 

R. R. B- 
DnBLiN, March, 1S52. 



ON THE GRAVES OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS 
IX LISBURN CHURCH-YARD. 

[In the eastern wall of Lisburn church-yard are a few weather-worn tombstones, the 
Role memorial in that district of a numerous colony of Huguenot exiles, who settled 
about Lisburn towards the close of the seventeenth century, after the repeal of the Edict 
of Nantz. Of the tombs, one has these woids :— '-Luge viator et ut ille, dum vita nianebat, 
auspice coelum, despice muudum, respice finem."] . 

Lightly tread ! beneath are sleeping, 

Warriors of the cross of God ! 
Warriors ! conscience truly keeping, 

Spite of persecution's rod! 
Warriors ! on their God relying ! 

Warriors ! victors over Rome ! 
Kings ! whom glories never dying. 

Wait in an eternal home ! 

Faithful, like their sires before them, 

To the faith their souls had tried ; 
Vainly bigot power o'erbore them, 

Vainly courtly arts were plied. 
Danger scorning, bribes despising, 

Wealth and lands they left behind ; 
More than gold their conscience prizing, 

More than home their chainless mind. 

Northmen ! north men ! guard their slumbers 

From their persecutor's tread ; 
Ye have strength from which her numbers, 

Scathed and broken, often fled : 
Rally here in time of dangers, 

Rally here — 'tis holy ground : 
Let the spirit of the strangers, 

Burning in your hearts, be found. 



1^2 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELST. 

Yours the foe whose hate bereft them 

Of their homesteads by the Rhone; 
Here's the heritage she left them— 

Sculpture dim and mouldering stone, 
List the lesson they are preaching 

From the strange soil where they lie ; 
Hear the faithful exiles teaching 

Wisdom that can never die. 

" Trust not Rome ! for pledges broken 

Mark the noontide of her power ; 
Oaths that royal lips have spoken, 

Fade in her triumphal hour : 
Rights a grateful king had given 

To the men that reared his throne, 
From their sons were basely riven, 

When her bigot power had grown. 

" Thus she robbed us of our valleys ; 

Slew our pastors with the sword ; 
Doomed our brethren to the galleys ; 

And her shaven robber horde, 
All their priestly arts are plying, 

In the mansions of the brave, 
Where our fathers' bones are lying, 

Far beyond the ocean wave. 

" Trust her not— when most she's telling 

Of her love for [ altars free,' 
Then her tiger heart is swelling, 

With the hope that soon shall be 
Vengeance, deep, and black, and lasting, 

Trampling down her every foe, 
Truth oppressing, freedom blasting, 

Chaining souls in gloom and woe." 

Northmen ! northmen ! mark the teaching 

Of the men who would not lie ; 
Hear the faithful exile preaching 

Wisdom that shall never die. 
Trust not man, for man betra* ed you, 

Trust not Rome, her friendship slays : 
Trust in God — with him to aid you, 

You shall stand when Rome decays. 

Leamh Dhearo. 
Lisburn. 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 103 

[From the Protestant Watchman, Dublin, October 20th, 1843 
THE ORANGEMEN OF THE NORTH. 

The Orangemen of the North 

Know nothing about dismay, 
Their cause is just and noble, 

It still shall carry the day. 

The Orangemen of the North 

Have the spirits of their sires, 
Who conquered at the Boyne, 

And opposed the Pope's desires. 

The Orangemen of the North 

Still are ready to maintain 
The cause of good King William, 

Without either spot or stain. 

The Orangemen of the North 

Shall still defend their freedom 
As their fathers long before 
Upheld it in this kingdom. 

The Orangemen of the North 

Are loyal " good men and true," 
Their rights they'll still maintain 

With the " Orange and the Clue." 

The Orangemen of the North 

Will ever unflinching wear 
The colors which their fathers 

Kept throughout with sacred care. 

The Orangemen of the North 

Shall preserve those colors free 
From every traitor "felon," 

Though a friend he'd seem to be. 

The Orangemen of the North 

Still raise their " No Surrender," 
In memory of him who was 

Their "great and good " defender. 

B..R. B. 



164 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

ORANGEMEN, COME ON.* 

A War Song. 

Tune — " Scots wha hae." 

Lo ! the wide horizon glows 
"With the watch-fires of your foes ! 
Lo ! each lighted mountain shows 

Where they bide their tinio ! 
Soon shall dawn the fatal day, 
Rolling drum and trumpet bray, 
Soon shall wake the deadly fray : 

Orangemen, come on ! 

Who but cowards would hang back 7 
Who but traitors would prove slack 1 
When to shield her from attack 

Freedom calls her sons 1 
Rouse ye ! fearless men and true, 
Rear the righteous cause anew ! 
Freedom's latest hope's in you : 

Orangemen, come on ! 

By your dead, your martyred dead, 
By their blood in torrents shed, 
By the murderous bullets sped 

From the foemen's guns ; 
By your fathers' swords ! by all 
That their ancient deeds recall — 
Boyne's red ford and Derry's wall, 

Orangemen, come on ! 

* " The Orange Association was formed in the year 1795, and the first lodge was held 
in the village of the Diamond, in the county Armagh, on the 21st day of September. 
We have the testimony of the Roman Catholic Committee, that in the prior conflicts be- 
tween the Protestant and Papist parties, the latter were the aggressors ; and from Mr. Em- 
mett, the acknowledgement that the occasion of formirg the first Orange Lodge was an 
outrage which Protestants must have regarded as a most perfidious violation of a sol- 
emn engagement. The Protestants had fought a pitched battle with their enemies — had 
won it ; and had, instead of following it up in blood, granted a truce. A day had only 
elapsed when they found the truce broken, and were compelled to reassemble. Out of this 
affray arose the Orange institution. It has been said t'nat it is calculated to excite bad 
feelings, and to promote tumults and aggression. To this the best reply is the tranquility 
of Ulster In ancient days, when one who had done Rome service was falsely accused, 
he pointed to the Capitol, and the memory of the good he had achieved was sufficient to 
effect his exculpation. The Orangemen do more I they say, we saved the country 
in the hour of its sorest peril ; and we have preserved the districts where our organiza- 
tion is effective, against the disturbances which affright and affect the less guarded 
provinces. This defence ought to be understood. The merchant on 'change should ask, 
why are lands in Ulster of higher purchase than in any other parts of Ireland ? Why 
does capital find there a more secure investment ? The economist in the House of Com- 
mons should inquire, why, in the estimate for the Irish military establishment, judging 
of expenses by the distribution of the troops, Ulster, containing much more than a 
fourth of the population of Ireland, puts the empire to not one twelfth of the expense? 
The man of moral and religious principle should inquire, why is it that inquests on vio- 
lent deaths are so few — that the calendar of crime in Ulster is so light in comparison 
with other Irish circuits— perhaps I might say, in comparison with England— and if it 
be found that districts where there is least crime, most security and least expense of 
government and protection, are the districts where Orangeism is most prevalent, it should 
awaken a disposition, not of course to receive as truth what Orangemen allege, but not 
to give instani and implicit credence in what their enemies inveigh against them." ''It 
has stood the test of two most scrutinizing parliamentary committees — one of the Lords, 
in the year 1825, and the other of the Commons, 1836, without the slightest imputation 
being cast upon it which has any weight with rational men." Accordingly to other ac- 
counts, the first lodge met shortly after the Diamond fight, in Dian, County Tyrone. 



LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 165 

From the homes your swords yet keep 
Where the waves on Youghal leap, 
To where Bann is rolling deep, 

Down by stout Coleraine ; 
From the strongholds of the brave, 
Schomberg's tomb, and Walker's grave, 
Erne's proud shore, and Lagan's wave, 

Orangemen, come on ! , 

Slumber not ! your foemeri wake ; 
Soon the fatal morn will break, 
Soon the frighted hills will shake 

With the battle's roar ; 
Lingor not ! the hour is nigh ; 
See, the dawning streaks the sky; 
March ! no surrender ! win or die ! 

Orangemen, come on ! 

Leamh Dheaiso. 
Lisburn. 



NO SURRENDER. 

Behold ! the crimson banners float, 

O'er yonder turrets hoary ! 
They tell of days of dauntless note, 

And Derry's dauntless glory ; 
When her brave sons undaunted stood, 

Embattled to defend her, 
Indignant stemmed oppression's flood, 

And sung out " No Surrender." 

Old Derry's walls were firm and strong, 

Well fenced in every quarter, 
Each frowning bastion grim, along, 

With culverin and mortar : 
But Derry had a surer guard, 

Than all that art could lend her, 
Her 'prentice hearts the gates who barred, 

And sung out " No Surrender." 

On camo the foe in bigot ire, 

And fierce the assault was given ; 
By shot and shell, 'mid streams of fire, 

Her fated roof was riven. 
But baffled was the tyrant's wrath, 

And vain his hopes to bend her, 
For still 'mid famine, fire and death, 

She sung out " No Surrender." 



166 LAYS OF THE ULSTER MINSTRELSY. 

Again when treason maddened round 

And rebel hordes were swarming, 
Were Derry's sons the foremost found, 

For king and country arming : 
Forth they rushed at honor's call, 

From age to boyhood tender, 
Again to man their virgin wall, 

And sing out " No Surrender." 

Long may the crimson banner wave, 

A meteor streaming airy, 
F'ortentous of the free and brave, 

Who guard the gates of Derry. 
And Derry's sons alike defy, 

Pope, traitor, or pretender, 
And peal to heaven their 'prentice cry, 

Their patriot " No Surrender." 

Anow. 



tl)c |)cotcstaut Maimer. 

J. B. FINLAY, L. L. D., Editor. 
Thisnew monthly PROTESTANT MAGAZINE will 
published in New York on the 1st of January, 185G. Each number wall 
contain 32 pages, printed on good paper, and with good type. 

Terms On© Dollar per Annum, Payable in 
Advance. 

The B AN N E R will faithfully expound the glorious truths of 
great Reformation-will defend the principles of our Protestant Zion, and 
I a watchman on her walls, will earnestly warn the community of 
Papal Jesuitry and cunning. Its chief characteristics will be- 

Sacred Devotion to Religion. 
Non-Sectarian Spirit. 

Maintainance of Truth, 

Unabated Opposition to Error. 

It will present to its readers, Historical Narratives-Dissertations on 
Romanism-Sketches of the Lives of Martyrs-Glances at the Missionary 
Operations of all Christian denominations throughout the World. It will 
also embrace a 

Suiamary of News from Europe, Asia and Africa. 

^B^wlUbeP^ln.tsChar.te, If Editorial, 

article, wiUbe^bnteompreheusive. Several gentlemen of 
well know,, literary attainments Have been engaged to 
write for its columns, which will present an array 
of talent unsurpassed hy any similar Periodi- 
cal published in tlie Country. 
All subscriptions and communications should be addressed to 
THE PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR, 

ROBERT ttBDMAN BELSDA.W, 

8 SPRUCE STREET, 

NEW YORK. 
Orders for the « Irish Protestant Letters," may also Le sent to t 

a p'T-The B AN N ER will be published at the office of the MER- 
CANTILE GUIDE AND FAMILY JOURNAL, 8 Spruce St. 



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